Precedent
by reathai
Summary: Despite Link's snickering, Midna tossed me her amused expression. "You're Dark Link, then. We'll come up with a nickname later, since you think that's such a cumbersome mouthful. Link, meet Dark Link. We can pretend he's your evil twin." SEQUEL POSTED.
1. prologue

**Summary**: An exploration of the origins of Dark Link and his connection to the Twilight Invasion, with a healthy dose of sarcasm and Midna/Link. This closely follows the events of TP. COMPLETE and REVISED as of Jan. 2011; SEQUEL IN PROGRESS: Ad Hoc.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them.

* * *

He left metal rattles in his wake; between his shield, sheath, and chain mail, she might have gone deaf during his wild galloping across the Field, on far-flung errands that kept him in the saddle for days at a time. Several times a week he called that poor horse and worked her into a frenzy as he raced around the provinces, in pursuit of shadows and mirrors and all sorts of other things. She felt terribly sorry for the animal, but Epona didn't mind. The unwaveringly loyal mare never hesitated to defend her master whenever Midna happened to ask how she was doing, specifically whenever said master was sound asleep and unable to worry Midna to wit's end. When he lay down for the night, she had a few hours of respite, often spending the time just watching him breathe and twitch and roll over. Peaceful actions. Sleepy actions.

A half smile quirked her lips. She hadn't seen him lie down since the poe battle in the Arbiter's Grounds, let alone take a nap. Suspiciously, he hadn't even bothered advancing through any more rooms. She might not have minded so much except for the fact that they had come to a standstill with absolutely nothing getting done. They didn't have unlimited amounts of time to spare sitting around a campfire and singing songs – or, in his case, staring unblinkingly into the flames – and being herself, she had very loudly pointed this out. But when he'd stopped speaking completely and taken to staring for hours at a time, his eyes hazy and unfocused and his face disturbingly pale, that loudness had turned into helpless concern. And now, the third day since setting up camp, he was _still_ staring… only today, it seemed as though his eyelids were finally beginning to droop, and a tiny ray of hope blossomed in her chest.

"Link?" His gaze seemed bright enough, but he neither acknowledged her verbally nor physically. At the very least, he should have hummed, since he knew how much it unsettled her when he didn't make any sound at all. "Link. _Link_. LINK."

Eyes flicking to her, he seemed confused and surprised, as if he'd forgotten she was even there. In an instant, she flitted to his side, her hand reaching for his forehead, but he sluggishly jerked away. She traced the path his hand swept to the hilt of his sword. His shoulders were slumping again.

Quietly: "Why don't you get some sleep?"

He shook his head.

"I know you're tired. It's been four days, Link; your body can't take much more of this." She hovered over him angrily, her hands on her hips because he wouldn't let her any closer. "You don't have a fever, do you? Did something bite you? Din, but if you need a fairy, I will get you one, one way or an-" Her subtle drifting ended abruptly as she caught sight of neatly wrapped rations she'd tossed at him hours earlier, before she'd gone off to find water. "Why didn't you eat that?" she demanded, exasperated.

"No," he growled, wrapping the rations even tighter in a ratty cheesecloth. "Go away."

Disapproving, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sick of this nonsense! I swear you're losing weight, and that gash is probably infected since you wouldn't let me-"

Suddenly he was leering at her, mocking her words. _You think this is deliberate?_

"What I _mean_, is that you didn't react as quickly as you usually do." His head ducked beneath that long hat of his, and she suddenly wanted to tear it from him because her translation of his stare had been entirely too accurate. "Don't you care?" she demanded. "Can't you realise that you have to take care of yourself in order to take care of others? In case you haven't noticed, you're no use to Zelda if you're on the verge of exhaustion, and running pell-mell into battles. Just look at-"

Tucking his injured arm against his side, he moved farther away from her, not even bothering to risk a response. Deep inside, Midna felt something break.

"I'm sorry, Link. I know this is unbelievably difficult, and I know you're trying your best to help Zelda... a-and me." His gaze brushed hers, but he quickly abandoned his hope with her next words. "But please think about yourself. Why not just take a break? How about I get you up bright and early tomorrow morning; I can watch the fire, and I can set a barrier so you won't have to worry. Please."

He answered simply with "No," and she returned to her place at the far side of the fire, defeated temporarily but thinking hard, attempting to regroup. She'd be damned if she let him get the best of her now, when he clearly had no idea what was going on. The damn boy looked beyond sickly. They both knew it, Midna acutely so.

"Fine," she huffed. "Be that way, but we're seeing Renado tomorrow. No arguing." Link only nodded vaguely from his slumping position by the tree. When he collapsed at midday two days later, she almost thought wickedly that he deserved it.

"M-Midna... I-I..." His hands had been intertwined with the reins, but she could see them shaking from her perch beside the horse's shoulder; she had taken to hovering beside him in anticipation of a sudden something, whether it was an attack he couldn't handle, or an abrupt loss of consciousness. As his eyes began fluttering unevenly, Midna quickly realised with a thrill of terror that it would be the latter.

"Link, stop!" She grabbed his hands and tugged the horse to a halt, his head rolling over his shoulders and his skin cold and clammy to the touch. In an instant his body had gone slack and begun slipping out of the saddle; she gasped, hurriedly disentangling him from the bridle, and rushed to his other side in an attempt to prevent his fall. But despite her efforts he slid gracefully off the startled animal with a bodily _thump_ and cacophonous clanging, a loud _crack_ quickly following as his trapped ankle twisted in the stirrups. She could see birds circling overhead, the ones that dove and routinely knocked him down if Epona didn't move fast enough. _Well_, she thought wryly, _they've certainly been beaten to it_.

Gingerly she warped him to a nearby clearing, heart hammering painfully in her chest whenever she looked at his ashen face. So he had pushed himself to the point of exhaustion, and with a broken ankle for his trouble. A sprinkling of pink sparks meant that only fairy she'd found had done all she could for him. Definitely not a good sign, since his eyes didn't even twitch. Brushing her hand over his scorching forehead, she bit her lip anxiously at the dogged pallor, sensing_something_. She couldn't quite place it, but whatever it was seemed out of place, eerie, and it scared her. Goddesses, but what if he didn't wake up again?

The longer she sat there, cross-legged and nervous, she felt like giving him a good scolding as he laid there motionlessly, just breathing and existing quietly, but her pity held her back; she wasn't entirely sure if it could be attributed to his silence or dilapidated state, but it crept up on her anyway, steering her thoughts in the wrong direction. And that direction kept turning farther and farther south until the fear gnawed at the back of her throat, because his breathing continued to slow, growing steadily shallower until she could barely feel it graze her palm. Whatever out-of-place feeling had scared her earlier, it couldn't hold a candle to the terror she felt now. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't die here.

Her voice came as a whisper, but the sky had already turned to a sanguine dusk. "Link, please. _Please_ don't leave me. Please. Oh goddesses-" They were gone in a blur of twilit pieces.


	2. theres no home for you here

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: There's No Home for You Here by The White Stripes.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"We have eleven here in Ordon."

The old man leant close to the paper, his nose nearly touching the ink, and read in a wheezy voice, "Yes, eleven." His brushy grey eyebrows knit together in consternation as he scribbled barely legible notes into the margin. Then he cleared his throat, signalling for the other man, younger and stockier with an air of authority, to continue.

"What about Faron?"

"...One."

"So the area's total count is twelve."

The older man nodded, tugging his loose brown cloak over his shoulders. He deposited his scrolls on the table and rubbed his watery eyes. Across the room, the younger man had taken up residence beside the window, his forehead leaning against the glass. The bottom half had been opened hours ago to freshen up the room, but to no effect, since the only thing it had achieved was a constant barrage of background noise. Then again, the simple action hadn't been expected to alleviate the boredom of endless paperwork in a tiny kitchen at a rickety wooden table.

They had been at it for hours: discussing the state of the village in relation to the capital, outlining the village's failing economy, updating the death records – and the work was exhausting. In a lame attempt to salvage their attention spans, the older man had changed the subject to the number of available children. And by available, the government used the definition of "being aged fourteen and of sufficient mental capacity," or otherwise eligible to complete a test of skills to earn official Hyrulean citizenship. Talo, the stocky man by the window and coincidentally the chief of Ordon, had disagreed with the testing since its inception, but the lack of citizens in Faron Province had eventually caught the attention of the census workers, and he had been forced to submit. And just like clockwork, the census worker had shown up for the biennial evaluation.

Talo snorted softly and adjusted his belt. As the reigning chief, he wore a simple tan tunic with crude embroidery around the edges, which he paired with black breeches, as well as an overwhelming weariness. He sighed again. "How many have yet to be tested?" he asked tiredly.

"On paper, three, but that's according to the old census records. I'm fairly certain the Faron girl died last summer in the Red Death outbreak. I passed a body on my way here – in a tree – and if I'm not mistaken-"

In response, Talo slumped against the far wall, near the open but cold hearth. "I know," he responded. "I know." Almost as an afterthought, he added bitterly, "We appreciated the parting gift. One of our boys tried, the one with the bow, but the rope turned out to be a chain. ...The testing is disgraceful. And maybe it's just the unlucky trend for children with that name, but I find it suspicious."

"Duly noted," muttered the old man grumpily. "However, I disagree. All children are required to endure testing, and some simply do not meet the criteria. Now, this boy with the bow, this Link-"

"We are well aware of the _criteria_, Desn, but Link, he's already passed his test-"

Desn held up a gnarled hand, his brows cinched in irritation. "Unofficially. The boy was not scheduled for testing then; he was not of age."

"But he passed the test. You can't honestly expect him to do it over again?" A touch of desperation had glossed Talo's words. From what he understood and from what he'd observed over the years, any child named Link always mysteriously failed the test, which, according to the only surviving Link, had consisted of a horrifying assault by armed guards in a dark corner of Hyrule Field. The source of Talo's suspicion had stemmed from the opening question: The guards had asked the boy how to spell his name, and Link, being the sarcastic idiot that he was, continually spelt 'orange.' Link had gone on to say that the guards had exchanged a look of confusion before asking him a second time, during which he answered falsely again. After the third question, with the boy's distrust of the men's intentions growing exponentially, the guards had attacked, and eventually almost succeeded in decapitating the poor boy before he fled into the forest. Two weeks later, Talo himself finally managed to find him, holed up in the Forest Temple with a fully-stocked quiver and a sniper's nest.

Every other child he knew had merely been asked how to spell their names by unarmed bureaucrats, after successfully following a trail to Castletown. Then the test had gone on to include reciting basic geography, and an oath of citizenship on the steps to the castle, with the child being driven home via stagecoach. Until Link stumbled out of Faron woods, skittish and completely untrusting of strangers, Talo's gut feeling of foul play had simply been a vague idea at the back of his mind. Now, he could feel it surging to the fore as he confronted the old man.

"Link completed the test. What those men did to him was completely out of line – not to mention how you strung up the body of that other boy as warning – and I won't stand for it, Desn. You and I both know that the only reason why Link took the test then was because his father Colin was on the verge of dying, and the household would have ceased to exist."

This time waving his hand dismissively, the old man shrugged. "He was not scheduled; he was never sworn into citizenship in the capital."

"He was attacked by your men!" exclaimed the chief furiously. "It wasn't a fair test to begin with!"

"He is not a valid citizen."

Talo stood up straighter, his attitude suddenly haughty as he pounded a thick fist into the wall with a loud _thump_. "Then damn his citizenship! I won't have your men kill him! His father died several months ago in the latest raid, and his mother Ilia was killed when he was seven. If Link isn't a citizen, you're essentially erasing him and his brother from any sort of government benefits! He won't be able to live anywhere but here!"

"Listen to yourself," scoffed the older Desn. "This boy's-"

"-name is Link, I know. We _all_ know. And what a horrid name it is."

Both men froze with angry words on their parted lips, their gazes suddenly directed at a new figure silhouetted in the doorway. A strawberry-blond young man stepped forward with curious green eyes fixed on his chief, barely visible beneath the low brim of his long cap and the heavy fringe. Something like recognition sparkled in his gaze when he caught sight of the old man at the table.

"Talo, I finished with the goats," he stated easily. A bow was slung over one of his shoulders, and both forearms were covered in crude, homemade gauntlets. His pale green tunic fell loosely to his knees, as if it were intended for someone else with a larger frame. The high cheekbones of his face highlighted the suspicious glare colouring his tanned features. "I figured I'd let you know."

"How much did you hear, Link?" Talo asked quietly. Link ignored the question, instead staring blatantly at the seated Desn.

Irritated at the disregard for authority, the old man snapped, "Mind your elders, boy."

"Mind your youngers, man."

Desn looked appalled. Talo's expression grew stormy in an instant. "Get outside. Now."

Blinking, Link grinned crookedly. "Sure, Chief. But aren't I gonna miss the spelling bee?"

"I said, _OUT_, Link!"

"I'm going, I'm going-" The blond spun around on the threshold, his smile still in place, as he fixed Desn with a very obvious stare. "Didja miss me?" With an insolent salute he was gone.

_"He is not a proper citizen._" Desn's deep-set eyes had grown wide with obvious anger. "He _will_ retake the test, or I _will_ order his exile! The boy's a waste of space, Talo, and wouldn't last a week in the Field. I would be doing your village a favour."

"I'll last longer than you, if you order that exile," a voice through the open window interjected. The boy had found a storage crate and stood upon it, his bow nocked and aimed at the old man's throat.

Exasperated, Talo spun around to fix a steady glare on the figure just outside the window, all the while moving to block his shot before deciding that ignoring his antics was probably the safest route. The patched green cap had been pulled down to a jaunty angle, and only served as a painful reminder to the chief, as it had been the original Link's, an old one he had lent to Colin and never collected. Sadness descended over him in an instant, because now that the boy had appeared, it would be that much harder to save his life, if his doubts about the fairness of the test were true. He leant against the hearth once more, tone subdued.

"You would not be doing anyone a favour but yourself," he responded. "I don't care. So far Ordon has sent four boys, all of them named Link. The first one made it as far as the Field; we found him three days later mutilated and burnt alive. The second, my _nephew_, reached the entrance to the Hyrule Castle trail before he was mauled by some wicked beast. The third was drowned in Lake Hylia. The fourth is in that tree, thanks to you. Our fifth Link is outside the window, no thanks to you. I will not allow you to continue with this ridiculous testing that is so obviously biased against certain _names_, of all things."

"Don't be ridiculous," crowed the old man, reacting as though Talo had just told some fantastic joke. "We do not _bias_ against names; that is utterly-"

"I knew Link."

The old man seemed unmoved by this revelation; if anything he appeared clearly unimpressed. "You knew the original Link. Well, then, Talo, _that_ Link out there has certainly lived up to his name, seeing as he's also cultivated a spectacular talent of being _useless_."

A startled hush fell outside; Talo didn't dare turn around, instead rising to his full height. "Link died of exhaustion nineteen and a half years ago. The Kakariko shaman delivered the news in person; I was just outside his door. Link died trying to defend us. He was dedicated to his friends, and risked everything trying to save us. He freed Hyrule from the darkness. Don't you dare-"

"I understand what you are attempting to say," the old man interrupted, sounding bored, "but still you do not give me a logical reason for attributing any sort of importance to his character. I think you've simply idolised the man, forming him into some sort of grotesque legend, the same way you've practically canonised your dead little friends-"

"Talo, move."

Desn, startled out of his rant and apparently oblivious up until now of the boy's position, eyed him warily through the window. The chief didn't budge, but turned his head to face the boy directly.

"Link put it down."

"He's insulting my parents."

"I can assure you that he is doing no-"

"And what if I am, boy?" He had risen to his feet, grey-bearded and bald-headed, but on his feet nonetheless. Desn and Link locked eyes in a challenge. "What would you do about it?"

"Well gee, if I'm standing in _plain view_ with a _strung_ _bow_ in my hands, I think the logical guess here would be: I'd shoot you," sneered the younger man. He flipped some stray hair out of his narrowing eyes. "I'm a good shot, old man. I take my time."

Talo grabbed the boy's left arm, but Link shook him off. "I said, put the bow _down_, Link. I won't say it again."

He grinned. "There's a rock in my pocket."

"Goddesses." The chief, still attempting to block the boy's aim, turned to Desn. "I suggest you leave, before anything gets out of hand. I will discipline him-"

"No, you would give him a harmless scolding, and send him into hiding." The old man hobbled to the window with a practiced glower. "Go on then, boy. Shoot me. You won't make it out of the village alive, and even if you did, you'd be dead within a week. Better yet, head into the Field with your bow and your rocks and your pathetic collection of wits about you. Complete the test and prove I'm wrong about your character and your parents-"

"Are you threatening him?" Suddenly angry, Talo rounded on the appointed counsel. "I've already told you that he's passed his test as far as I'm concerned and I- You can't-"

"If he refuses to take it, I will exile the boy. It's rather simple, _Chief_." The old man returned to his seat at the table and began gathering his scrolls into an alphabetised pile.

"I'm not 'this boy' or 'the boy.'" The arrow nocked on Link's bow pricked Talo's wrist suddenly, and the man involuntarily withdrew his arm. "And I'll take your damn test, old man."

"Link!"

But the blond had already taken off running towards his house near the stream, whistling for his horse as it grazed near the gates and calling loudly for his brother to gather his bag. Desn made a big show of retiring early to a rented room in the chief's house with his chest of scrolls and records like the coward he was, not even bothering to watch the boy march off to his death. In a desperate attempt to change Link's mind, Talo anxiously relocated so that he stood before the fenced-off forest trail, his worry spiralling out of control. Ilia would kill him if she were here, and Colin would most likely wring his neck. But before any other thoughts could cross his mind, Link galloped into the clearing, reining his horse in abruptly at the sight of the chief resolutely blocking his path.

"I forbid you to go!" Bravely, Talo held out his arms. "They're going to kill you-"

A bitter laugh issued from the mounted youth. "Not if I kill them first. Besides," he added waspishly, "you were the one who stressed the importance of earning citizenship, so what difference does it make if Desn gives the order for a retake? It's ego, I'm sure, but the same end-"

"Your mother would-"

"My mother's dead!" His words echoed angrily in the small clearing, each syllable striking the man with crippling force. "My mother has been dead for years, Talo; my father has been dead for months. There's nothing keeping me here - not you, not corpses, not-"

"Me?"

Link spun around in his saddle to meet his brother's look of utter betrayal. The tiny child was standing at the gate, his unruly red hair in a bed-mussed halo, his big blue eyes staring in shock. He still wore his flannel night shirt, but no shoes.

"Not me, Link?"

The blond's mouth fell open, but the little boy had seen enough; he backed away as indignant tears coursed down his freckled cheeks. Talo moved to comfort him. Link's horse jerked forward in an instant, easily clearing the gate, and vanished into the growing shadows of the forest.


	3. sing for absolution

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Sing for Absolution by Muse.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I knew my name carried some sort of wretched curse; even as we galloped haphazardly through the close-set trees, my mind was spinning with the memories of older boys riding down this very same path, each of them sharing my name, and each of them never returning to the village alive. When I turned five, my mother had shut herself in her room and cried for days because of a letter from the new king. My father had later told me that the new government required all children to pass a test of skills in order to become a citizen of Hyrule. The reason Ilia cried, he'd said, was because a friend of hers had written, telling her that Lord Dragmire wished to kill children with a specific name. When he'd been on his sickbed, and I halfway out the door to take the test, Colin had forbidden me from giving my real name.

And thank the goddesses that I'd actually listened to him, for once in my life, or I might not have been here now, rocketing down the trail on a horse I didn't really own but called mine anyway, an antique weapon in my hands, and nothing left to lose. The antique was actually stolen too, in a way, since Ilia, who'd been a friend of the original Link's, had taken it back to the village after he'd died at Kakariko. When I'd turned ten Talo had passed the weapon onto me, and I'd kept it shiny and strung and ready to go at a moment's notice, especially when I knew scary men with broadswords lurked in the trees somewhere. I nocked an arrow when a stray flicker of firelight finally caught my eyes.

"Shh," I whispered to the horse, Arden, a dirty grey stallion of middling size. "Steady." Accordingly Arden adjusted his brisk movement to accommodate the unusual silence of the forest. I was glad he understood the gravity of the situation, since I couldn't bring myself to fully define what I was about to do. Instead, I started erasing the faces of the soldiers ahead. In my mind's eye, they were faceless and voiceless, only issuing grunts and snarls from unseen mouths. They were equivalent to the Bulbins that had ridden through and sacked the village and killed my mother and returned to murder my father.

_Link_¸ a strong voice declared resolutely, _these are not men._

An archer loomed into sight with a flaming arrow, and my bowstring groaned with the tension. Taking that that thought into consideration, I swallowed a shuddering breath and sighted down the shaft, clearing the worst of the anxiety from my mind. This whole situation was brilliant, really. The last time I'd snuck down here, there had been no one around for miles except the strange hippie down near the Field gate. Now, I could pick out several pinpricks of light, each of them moving across the path ahead, weaving in and out between the tree trunks. Desn's security detail must have set up shop on the main path into the village, just like last time. Except, these weren't men.

Arden and I drew quietly closer until the first archer was within hailing distance. I could, technically, call out to them now. By some off chance they could be pleasant family-men, unwilling to shoot a ginger kid with a cool hat... or they could stick me full of arrows and burn me to a crisp. The archers continued pacing but my bowstring grew tauter against my wrist, since this could only end one way, and I sincerely hoped my aim wouldn't fail me now.

The closet man fell soundlessly to the ground, and I fought hard to stifle a gag, horror coursing through me – until he gasped and groaned and I let out a fantastic sigh of relief. I'd aimed for his right shoulder, above the lung, at just the right angle to stun and disable a man. Indeed, as Arden flew past the figure curled into the foetal position, I noticed that he'd dropped his broadsword, just as I'd intended. And even though I knew that I had to do this, I also knew that hurting these men was inherently wrong. At the same time, I couldn't sit here and say sorry to the twitching, moaning man. I couldn't take back the arrow and the wound it had inflicted. There was no turning back and I couldn't get off the horse and stop and I couldn't turn around and I couldn't scream. These were not men, I reminded myself dumbly.

Except, two of them chased after me as I fled, all because I couldn't bring myself to properly incapacitate them. By the time I rounded the last bend in the trail that led past the spring, a cluster of archers and infantrymen awaited me near the cave opening that led to the main Field. _Way to ruin the fun. _I felt my stomach settle over the saddle as several arrows whizzed by my ears, two of them meeting their target and immediately catching my tunic on fire.

"Goddesses!" Whacking desperately at the flames, I yanked on Arden's reins. "GO!" The horse shot forward instantly, squealing from a close brush with a barbed club, and raced for the bridge ahead. I could feel the blood soaking the front of my tunic, the same tunic my grandmother had stitched ages ago. She'd kill me if she could see its ragged state now. She'd tell me to wash it... Did-did someone really just _shoot_ me?

Hoofbeats jarred my foggy thoughts as we galloped onward, over the bridge, into the Field, with thinly-spread hope following doggedly in our disruptive wake. Between the trees their eyes still glinted warily, the arrows still waved, burning acridly into the night, but they gave no chase. The bow clasped in my hand had become caught over the saddle horn, the arrow nocked to it lying forgotten somewhere on the trail. As soon as we broke through into the Field, Arden slid to a halt and I tumbled from his back, tried valiantly to scramble into something resembling a triumphant upright position, but failed miserably in every aspect except for glaring at my attackers. They must have thought that their job was finished, that I'd die soon enough for me not to be an issue, because no one pursued me into the Field

"Dammit. What the hell, Arden?" I hissed at him. The horse stomped impatiently, nickering in irritation. "Hold still, will you? I can't even make it out of the woods without- ah... in-incident..."

It crossed my mind that it might have done us some good to obey Talo, but obviously backing down like a coward would've been completely detrimental to my development into a wholesome, scrupulous Hylian citizen, minus the whole citizen-part, since Desn had pretty much cursed me. I jammed the bow into a saddlebag, the arrows protruding from my arm and shoulder making it a little difficult to sling the weapon anywhere but elsewhere. Nearby, the horse whinnied and stomped his foot in response. Blowing the hair from my eyes and carefully rising to my feet, I gently patted Arden's flank.

"Hush up, you big wuss. We've got bigger problems," I murmured through gritted teeth. If the horse wanted to complain, I couldn't blame him; being stabbed hurt like hell. The arrows definitely had to come out, that much was evident. After testing just how deep the heads had gotten, I quickly realised that removing them wouldn't be easy, let alone one-handed and clumsily on the opposite side of a rocky outcropping fully exposed to a group of angry men with sharp swords and flaming arrows. This kind of sucked.

Overhead the sky stretched inky and studded in all directions, punctuated by the bright sphere of the moon and scudding clouds. The sight of it instilled a profound sense of loneliness in the centre of my chest, and suddenly I wished that someone had at least followed me, if only for the purpose of extracting these goddesses-damned arrows. The points felt barbed. I wondered vaguely if they were poisoned, or if this was what dying felt like. That was when I heard the muted rustling from somewhere to our left. I'd wanted to just sit and die here, but no, someone had to ruin the party. Turning the slightest bit and reaching for my bow, I nocked an arrow as quietly as I could, even though I could only see the shadows cast by the clouds overhead in my peripheral vision.

"Did you hear that?" I asked Arden. The horse shook his mane out, then sat remarkably still behind me as I leant against his warm side, gradually twisting to face whatever hid in the bushes. The bow's fine finish crackled loudly against my glove, and the fletching brushed my cheek. Whatever it was rustled again, now emitting a low growl.

"How dare you..."

I stared. The Field was considerably darker than the trail, even with the fleeting moonlight shed over the immediate area. When a big dark shadow dropped abruptly right in front of my face, I barely stifled a gasp.

"How dare you bear his name!" it squeaked angrily. Suddenly rendered immobile, I watched, annoyed more than anything, as the shadowy thing snatched the hat off of my head. "How..." And, in a dizzying blur of movement, the thing had vanished to some place nearby, mumbling in some sort of garbled gibberish. And still I couldn't move, but oh, could I speak.

"That's my hat, you know. Stealing is rude," I told the thing flatly. The dark shadow appeared again, this time hovering just over Arden's head; the horse nickered, but whatever the thing was, it whispered to Arden and he quieted. "And that's my horse."

It dropped altitude, a soft velvet patch moving against my struggling field of vision. The nocked arrow was seriously beginning to make my face itch. Then I noticed it sounded like a girl - a foreign one, but definitely a female.

"Where did you get this?" She'd said it quickly, anguish and even a little outrage colouring her tone. The female thing drew closer, and a flash of crimson flickered. She had apparently only one glowing red eye that I could clearly see, and what looked like a pair of antlers perched on her head. The thing's eye quickly narrowed, a pointy tooth glinting in the darkness.

"This is not yours," she hissed at me, and suddenly a force pinned me against the sheltering outcrop, my feet dangling somewhere around Arden's shoulder. A glowing orb of crackling energy balanced delicately on the thing's palm. "Where did you get this?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "I'm not saying a word until you let me down, lady.'Good will' usually implies a nice cup of tea or something; not jagged rocks cutting into my-"

"I can play your game, kid. You're already dying by the looks of it; I sense no fairy in your supplies." The thing smiled sickeningly, and reached out to grasp one of the shafts in her tiny fist. She twisted it. _Oh goddes_- My breaths came shorter and shorter until something, I was sure, would pop or break or just explode: I felt the force's pressure increasing, and that goddesses-damned arrow twisting, twisting. Maybe she would squeeze me to death. "_Where did you get this_?"

I considered telling her, but instead I unthinkingly gasped, "I... find it... hard to... commun... icate... when I'm being... st-strangled..."

"I have killed every one of your people who dares claim his name. Killing you would be nothing to me - _nothing._"

The pressure tightened considerably until a _crack_ rent the air, followed by a pained gasp. The hovering thing froze; the force faded completely and I found myself lying in a trembling heap on the ground, my sides aching and stinging all at once from the arrows and now this crazy magic thing with a grudge and wicked mood swings.

"You and… everyone… else! Want my… hat- l-_leave_!" I growled, but the thing only hovered uncertainly near my head, her eye wide and reflecting some constellation that I shouldn't have been thinking of at all, let alone while I was being tortured by some freak.

In a trembling voice she whispered, "Tell me where you got this. Please."

"I said, Gi- _Nayru_!" Pain, even worse than the arrows, wound through my chest, exacerbated by every shallow breath that managed to squeeze its way down my throat; she broke a rib. The arrows stung too... stinging... stinging... The thing appeared abruptly at my side, held my hand, and started spouting gibberish that I didn't understand in the least. She used my name, but everything else she said had absolutely nothing to do with me. It didn't help that the world had taken it upon itself to colour everything an even darker shade of black.

"I need you to tell me where you got this!"

I jerked my head to the side as violently as I could, a hand held out blindly in front of me in a stupid attempt to protect myself. "I- Din!" But the thing grasped my hand with a tiny, star-like palm and bent the fingers backwards, so that I finally caved, snarky false confidence be damned. "My father!" I hissed at her, practically sobbing from the pain emanating through my body. "My-my f-father!"

The thing dropped my hand as if it burnt and backed away quickly. I couldn't make out the expression, but I was willing to hazard a guess that she was surprised at the answer she'd received. And then I blinked once, but the world vanished.


	4. you stay i go no following

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: You Stay. I Go. No Following. by Look Mexico.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

The first thing I noticed when I woke some time later was the absence of the arrows. I remembered quite clearly being struck three times with heavy bolts, and I remembered how they stung and clacked together whenever I'd moved - not to mention that shadow's sadistic torture session. Now, in the thick golden sunlight of early afternoon, those shafts had vanished, bandages left tightly (and, well, neatly) tied in their place.

"Arden?" Nothing akin to a whicker answered me. In fact, it felt entirely too quiet, enclosed even. When I finally convinced myself to open my eyes, I discovered that I'd been moved to what looked suspiciously like the chief's den. Several paintings of Ilia, Colin, Talo, Malo, and Beth hung on the walls, and still more portraits of Beth's kids, Malo Jr. and (the deceased) Link, littered the mantel. Three padded chairs had been moved from their original positions and pushed against the far wall to make room for the cot I was sitting on. Great. I couldn't just sneak out of here, with my presence being so obvious. And goddesses knew how long I'd been out, just lying here, dead to the world, back in what was now enemy territory.

I risked standing because on occasion I entertained a stupid streak about a league and a half wide. It didn't hurt. I wasn't dizzy; a little wobbly, maybe, but nothing life-threatening. There was an empty bottle on the floor, and by the sparkling pink dust left glittering along the rim, it looked as though a fairy had squeezed her way out of there recently. I turned to look suspiciously at the firmly shut door, fully expecting Talo to make some sort of dramatic entrance and start berating me for my idiocy and lack of preparedness, but nothing moved. The house sounded empty. Through the half-open windows, I could hear some of the kids shrieking and playing, but other than that, there were no signs of life in the immediate area. Wonderful. Maybe there was an armed sentry in the other room.

Irritated and somewhat anxious, I began collecting my gauntlets and tunic from a nearby chair and hurriedly dressed. My bow was nowhere to be found, or my hat. If that stupid shadow thing had my hat, there would be hell to pay, but the bow was another story entirely, especially since Talo's involvement was a given. Once I'd reapplied all of my equipment, I made for the door as stealthily as I could, hoping beyond hope that the kitchen would be unoccupied, and that my bow and hat would be sitting happily on the counter, waiting for me.

"Ah, so the little hero awakes."

I got two out of three. My hat and bow were indeed waiting on the table, but Talo had taken up residence at one of the kitchen chairs, paperwork in one hand and a glass of what looked like potion in the other. Glaring, I settled stubbornly against the shut door with both my shoulders and jaw set in annoyance. "What am I doing here, Talo? If I remember correctly, I'm no longer a member of this community, and you've got a village to look after... Y'know, that big, sprawling piece of land with all those little buildings-"

"Can it, Link," snapped the chief. He squinted in apparent exasperation and absently set down the thick sheaf of papers in order to adjust the collar on his loose, white shirt. Waving at my apparent state of emergency, he sighed heavily. "You're awaiting trial. You would have died if I hadn't brought you back home. Just look at yourself; your mother would kill me if she could see-"

"Talo, my mother is dead; been dead for like, seven years - she isn't coming back, so therefore she doesn't care if I haven't combed my hair this morning."

The older man shifted, his irritation making his movements jerky as he rose to his feet and strode across the room so that he towered over me, an accusatory finger pressed into my chest. "This is serious, Link! Desn has not only ordered your exile, but he's putting you on trial for murder!"

"They would have killed me!" I spluttered. "Everyone knows that!"

"This is the government," Talo stated, pained. "You can't shoot down eight sentries and expect to- to just disappear! Three of them died from their wounds, and one of them is on the verge of dying."

The words hit me like ice water. I had killed three, possibly four, men. I had killed them. Oh goddesses, why was this happening to me? Eyes wide, I fixed them on the chief in desperation, heady sickness brewing in my stomach. "But they- Talo, they tried to kill me, twice, I- I was just-"

"I know." He sounded impossibly sad and resigned, and just hearing that tone brought my nervousness to the next level. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you."

Indignation replaced the malaise. I didn't want Talo to have to rescue me from this. I didn't want his help. But at the same time, I knew that there had to be something I could do to avoid being sentenced to death, since that decision would be inevitable if the trial proceeded. I also needed to know if Desn was still around, and where Arden had gone, and if Ren had gotten his potion and stopped crying. But I didn't dare ask any questions. I was supposed to be silent and superficially receptive of his words at times like this, or emotionally strong and confident and Link-like. Wasn't that how they always described him? Goddesses, but half the time I didn't even think he was real. Right now, I wished that I wasn't real, that this was a dream. Accordingly, I drifted over to the table and collected my things, noticing that my hat had been torn and crudely mended, although dried leaves and bits of dirt still clung to the fabric of the brim. Reality kept blurring into something surreal.

While I had my back to the door, Talo disappeared momentarily, returning with something wrapped in heavy canvas, sighing as he moved, loudly and angrily. He looked peaked and nervous as he placed it carefully in my hands and gestured to leave the wrapping in place. "I want you to take this. It was Link's, made by your grandfather Rusl. You need to find Zelda, and-"

But I'd begun tuning him out when I pulled down the top corner of the sheet and uncovered what looked like an ornate hilt. "Right," I muttered, "yeah. You want me to find a dead princess and give her a belated birthday present." What the hell did he expect me to do, just waltz into the castle as a known exile and say, "Oh hey guys, I was just wondering if you could point out the deposed princess? 'Kay thanks."

Talo, of course, interrupted with, "Are you even _listening_ to me?"

"Vaguely."

"Better than nothing," grumbled the chief. "I said, You need to be more careful. You left before... You know you left Renado in tears, don't you?" he accused. A satisfied expression settled over his features when I looked away. "I meant to talk to you, Link. I don't in any way condone your chosen method of escape; it was overly dramatic, and it traumatised your little brother. He's staying with me for the duration of your little escapade, in case you were wondering." He shot me a cool, flat stare that I ignored spectacularly. "In all seriousness, I need you to at least pretend to be mature for at least a little while. And yes, I know this is subject to sarcastic interjections, but as long-"

I twisted my hat in my hands and nodded impatiently. Maybe it had really happened, and she'd simply returned it. The thing had dropped my hand as soon as she'd gotten her information, so maybe she'd discarded the hat in a similar fashion. I levelled my gaze on Talo. "Okay," I said, "fine. I'm sorry. But it's not like this can end well, since what's-his-face won't let me pass my test – even if it didn't involve armed soldiers and stupid questions – and he's gone and made it all official by now, right?" In the process of checking the hat for any additional injuries, my hands ran across a gaping hole along the brim's hem. Goddesses-damn it.

"Link." He'd shut his eyes, squeezing the lids together, as his consternation became nearly palpable in the space between us. I caught him eying my hat disdainfully, and out of spite I jammed it onto my head, hole and all. "Look, your parents and I... we were... we knew Link - the first Link. We were all friends, and then one day he just left the village and all these things started happening. You _need_ to find the princess."

Scoffing, I straightened my hat, muttering, "So I'm exiled, not even a citizen of the goddesses-damned country and currently on trial for murder, and you want me to-"

"You're going to have to, Link. There are rumours she's still alive, somewhere – and if you can find her, I know it'll topple Dragmire's rule, and Hyrule will be peaceful again." Talo fixed a hard, scrutinizing gaze on me. "Show her this sword when you find her. If you head into Castletown, you should find a woman there named Telma."

"Because, you know, I'm Link reincarnated apparently," I snorted. "Let me just grab my bow and I'll magically avoid all the regiments patrolling the Field. I'm so talented at avoiding arrows. It's like they just go right through me!"

Talo's eyes narrowed, then softened. "_I_ believe you are Link reincarnated, in the sense that you have his courage and his dedication to what's right, and what needs to be done." Something sank in my chest, and I knew for a fact that it wasn't a rib. I almost preferred the floating bone to this feeling and what it meant. Now, it seemed, I would simultaneously be running from death into death – if I were caught, I would be killed on sight, no questions asked, and Desn would finally get his wish. "You're a prolific archer, Link. I think you can learn the sword if you put your mind to it."

"Wait, you expect me to _use_ this?" I pulled on the hilt and freed the top part of the weapon from its sheath with a tiny _click_; the shiny metal blinked in the sunlight, reflecting brilliantly against the dull grey walls. _What the hell does he expect me to do with this? Stab something until it just keels over and dies? What in bloody hell would I do with the body?_

"It's a sword, of course I expect you to use it. You can't use a bow in close combat."

"No, really?" I probably wouldn't have to use it at all then. As long as I kept my distance and avoided the men in the Field and in the town and _everywhere_, I'd be in the clear. It'd be okay. I just had to stay hidden. …For the rest of my life.

Talo rolled his eyes at me and took it back, letting his fingers run over it with startling familiarity. "Luda found it among his belongings, or what little was left after that imp stole everything," he added bitterly. "Link had been working with this shadow-being – why, he never told us. But he apparently trusted it, and look where it's landed him."

Shadow-being. Maybe it was the same one that had assaulted me last night; it sure seemed like she was out for vengeance... _I have killed every one of your people who dares claim his name_. It had to be her. "Maybe you shouldn't speak so badly of that 'shadow-being.'" My voice sounded more apprehensive than I would've liked, but bite me for harbouring reluctance when it came to meeting that thing again.

"Don't," warned Talo, "speak of matters that you've no knowledge of, Link." _Oh, I understand perfectly, really. _My ribs twinged with the bitter memory. "At any rate, I trust you, even if no one else does. I trust you to finish this job Link started eighteen years ago... When Zelda sees you... I know she'll recognise you for who you are." He handed the weapon back to me.

"Well wasn't that inspiring. Glad to know I've got the support of Hyrule in my back pocket."

The chief just rose silently to his feet, head shaking, eyes flitting to the door. "Desn is inspecting the goat stables for the next hour," he told me quietly. "I've already fitted Arden with a new pack. Be careful, Link. We're depending on you."

I didn't wait to say anything else, or to see his reaction, or for me to even begin to process what had just happened in such a short amount of time. Instead, I buckled the sheath over my shoulder, replaced my bow in my quiver, tugged my hat over my eyes, and walked right out the door. The village wasn't crawling with soldiers yet, so I had a little bit of time to myself before I would absolutely have to flee. After whistling for Arden, I made for my house by the stream.

"Ren," I called softly through the front door. The boy didn't answer, but I knew he was inside somewhere; he'd once again left his toy wagon on the porch. Colin had built it for him just before the last raid. It wasn't even finished – it still needed to be sanded and painted – but Ren never let it out of his sight. I ventured into our shared bedroom and found him huddled on the floor.

"Talo said you were dying," he said immediately, fearfully. "He said you're leaving for awhile."

I knelt down beside him, hugging him tightly for a fleeting second before moving back toward the door. Outside, someone had started yelling about something, which was probably my cue to get out of here. "Yeah, kiddo. I'll be back in a bit, okay? You're gonna have to be the man of the house. And be good for Talo and drink your potion, okay?" Giving him my best easy grin, I began backing away. "Be careful, Ren, you hear me?"

My brother turned his heavily freckled face up to me, those damn eyes of his like a deer's: wide and liquid and scared. "Link-!"

"CHECK THE HOUSE!"

My head whipped around in alarm. I dove back into the bedroom and hurriedly shut and bolted the door, staring in panic at Renado's tiny figure in the corner. Farore, Nayru, and _Din_, but they were coming and I doubted that they'd spare this kid, my only relative, if they found me in here with him. "Ren," I hissed, "get under the bed. Now. Don't come out until Talo comes to get you. Do you hear me, kid? Ren?"

"Yes!" he squeaked, crawling beneath the heavy bed frame with his favourite blanket. "Link, I-"

"Don't make a sound. You stay right there, and no matter what happens-" I was propping open the window so that I could knock it shut once I'd gotten outside. Tears were collecting at the corners of my eyes. Goddesses damn them, but if they wanted to kill me, why hadn't they just gotten it over with last night? "No matter what happens, Ren, be brave. Don't make a sound and don't move until Talo comes-"

Some unintelligible noise came from under the bed, but I was already perched on the ledge, ready to jump into the stream that ran directly behind our house. It sounded like the place was about to be surrounded. Brilliant. Glancing back into the room, I wanted to say something meaningful but nothing came to mind. I knew deep down that there existed a good chance that I'd never see this place or Renado ever again, and that didn't make sitting up here on the goddesses-damned windowsill any easier. That awful icy sickness flooded my lower chest, forcing me to shut my eyes and breathe in deep, the sounds of the front door splintering finally reaching my ears. And then I was gone.

x

_We're depending on you_.

The only thing that saved us from capture was my otherwise useless knowledge of back trails through the forest. After a gruelling hours-long chase through Faron and part of the Field, Arden and I finally managed to lose our pursuers and hastily set up a temporary camp in a secluded copse. I'd never actually ventured very far into the Field, so I had essentially no idea where we were in relation to anything else. I just knew that if we headed north, we'd eventually hit the Hyrule Castle trail, which would lead into the town itself.

I had a brilliant sense of direction, honest.

Despite having settled down for the night, a fire remained out of the question. We didn't need any more strange visitors, corporeal or otherwise. And so, I sat with my back to Arden's warm body, mulling over Talo's words and their meaning, and turning the sword over and over again in my bare hands as I tried to decide if I had the heart to use it. I'd grown up an archer, not a swordsman. My mother had forbidden swordplay despite my father's advances, and with good reason, I guessed: her best friend had been a swordsman, and, in Talo's words, "...look where it's landed him." And despite all of that, Talo expected me to essentially follow in Link's footsteps and to pick up where he left off in his strange little quest. No one actually knew what he'd been looking for, so that made it that much more promising. However, if it had been anything similar to locating a long-dead princess, then I could sympathise. Talo had pretty much set an impossible goal, and I couldn't help but wonder if that had been on purpose; if I stayed busy on a perpetual treasure hunt, I wouldn't bring trouble into the village, everyone else would be all right, and I could pursue a lifestyle based on an illusion of rebellion – until someone caught and identified me, and then hanged me for treason.

His parting declaration fluttered to the surface of my thoughts, fleeting in definiteness and glowing with ghostly foreboding. How can 'they' depend on me, when Talo himself admitted that he was perhaps the only one who trusted me? I knew that people had long placed false hope in the name I shared, more out of desperation than real conviction – why else would it be such a popular name in Ordon? I was the sixth Link born into the village, and so far, the only one to survive the test... and yet, people would continue to name their kids after what was probably a real person but an apocryphal hero.

Aside from the native villagers, there was also a seemingly wealthy family that spent every summer in Ordon. Their eldest children were twins, Effie and Keaton, and their youngest a girl named Link. The little girl had been born when I was nine; the twins had two and a half years on me. Despite the age gap, I'd spent most of my time working with Keaton in the pastures, herding goats. Effie had helped occasionally, but during their third summer in Ordon, their father had been drafted to join the Hylian army. Her mother had dissolved into an emotional wreck, neglecting her usual duties, and leaving her daughter to take charge of the household. I remembered eating an Effie-prepared dinner more than once, followed by an after-dinner excursion to the dock behind her house. She and her brother had both resembled their dark-haired, dark-eyed father. The baby girl, Linkie, as she was later called, had fair hair – an insignificant detail praised by the villagers as a sign.

Yeah, a sign. Their signs and pointless stubbornness, all because of four measly letters, only earned them dead kids. Colin had been convinced that the test was a cover to eradicate anyone with that name, because the legendary hero always bore it. Maybe it was a smart idea. Or maybe it would completely backfire, as everything eventually did when it came to evil governments.

"What do you think he was like, Arden?" The horse tossed his mane. "Link, I mean. How do you exhaust yourself like that? Especially when you've got people depending on you. How can you just give up?" Arden looked at me with that evanescent flicker of intelligence and compassion in his liquid eyes.

I felt the gradual shift in the pit of my stomach, an exchange of something far heavier than any of the distant mountains combined. This was psychological. Those people were depending on me; had been, ever since I'd been given the name and survived the guards' murder attempt. I sat motionless against the outcrop and watched silently as Arden grazed through the tall grass. The first Link's sword weighed heavily in my hands, but the dying sunlight sparkled teasingly, harmlessly, around the campsite. By now I had my boot caught in the door, so there was no backing out. I couldn't turn around anymore; after Talo's little chat, the deal had been consummated by the sword. The only alternative was death in an unfair trial.

The sword, though. More doubt cluttered my mind at the thought of it. I was sure that if I tried, or if the circumstances were dire enough, I would use it. Just the thought of cutting through a living being's flesh set me on edge. With arrows, I shot and ran. Arterial spray was another matter entirely, and a matter I definitely didn't feel like dealing with at such close quarters. I didn't really want to do this. I didn't know where to start. I didn't _want_ to know where to start, but nothing could be done now. Sighing heavily, I huddled against Arden's warm coat and shut my eyes. There was no way back.

But if I hadn't been so tired from the day's events, I might have noticed the eyes watching us from the brush.


	5. the king and all of his men

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: The King and All of His Men by Wolf Gang.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"So much for protecting Hyrule, huh?" I brushed heavy vines from our path with the sword, but my clumsy movements were further impeded by the arrow wounds. Sure, the fairy had succeeded in healing most of the serious damage, but the flesh wound itself had turned an angry red after the first few days. I'd tried bathing it with boiled cloths, using the basic salve in the pack's medical supplies, and just letting it air-dry without the smothering bandages, but none of it helped. Then again, I probably should've known that the stress of being a fugitive on a mission would hamper healing, but hey, I enjoyed a good shower of denial every once in a while.

After four days, I'd only made it as far as a trailhead that looked like it hadn't been used in ages, which was probably a little too accurate. Aside from Link's apparent mischief-making, no one else could possibly be stupid enough to just wander around the Field for no good reason, especially when most of my time had been spent avoiding patrols and the occasional traveller instead of hiking happily and examining wildflowers. Add tall grass, stinging nettles, and swarms of bugs to the list of perils, and it wasn't any wonder why the trails had long been abandoned. Besides, according to the generously-provided map, courtesy of the desperate Talo, I'd walked off into a hole: the canvas had been burnt severely in several places, leaving me to surmise that the stylus used to write it hadn't exactly been the tool of choice. I was basically taking a trail that didn't really exist. Great.

But speaking of stupid choices, at that moment I finally decided to give up the map and just wing it. Tossing it carelessly into some random saddlebag, I instead turned my attention to analysing my surroundings again from where I perched on the horse's back. We'd left the exposure of the Field sometime in the last hour, and now explored a tiny deer path that began in the northwest area of the Field.

By now, we were probably somewhere in the vicinity of a mile or two from the trailhead – and stuck, mostly by my own debilitating curiosity. High rock walls bordered each side of the trail here: rough and naturally hewn somehow, with the occasional craggy evergreen poking out of the scree above our heads. Arden didn't hesitate to voice his disapproval of the very claustrophobic surroundings, but I dutifully ignored him and continued cautious, frequently waving my sword clumsily to clear away the gnats and low-hanging cobwebs. It all became pretty routine until I struck out with the blade, and nearly fell out of the saddle when the hand guard got tangled in the dead vines that cascaded over the entire right face of the rock wall.

"Goddesses-dammit!"

With a loud, obscene growl, I tugged the snickering horse to a halt and dismounted, then retraced the several paces to where the sword hung innocently, halfway up the wall in a mass of brown leaves and stickers. I jumped and managed to knock it free, but not before revealing a series of grooves, cut into the wall in what appeared to be a geometric pattern. As cool as that was, I didn't appreciate being stalled by someone's lame idea of art. Arden nuzzled my shoulder impatiently while I gestured angrily at the wall.

"Don't you see this thing, Arden?" I snapped at him, beginning to move forward on foot. "People are defacing random walls with their stupid shit, and then-" But the bloody horse wouldn't follow. I spun around to glare at him, pointing at an upcoming turn in the path. "C'mon, we've gotta get out of here before nightfall." Instead of doing anything remotely useful, he tossed his mane in that prissy way of his and I rolled my eyes. "You're such a filly," I told him disapprovingly, as if that did any good. I grasped his bridle and attempted to tug him onwards, but he _still_ wouldn't move; this time, he violently jerked his head upwards so that I lost my grip on the leather and almost had my arm tugged out of its socket. Annoyed, I involuntarily stepped back as he settled down again-

Why did something just _squish_?

There, lying near the centre of the path, was a head. A severed head. A severed Zora kid's head, with my boot resting on that creepy dorsal fin-type appendage that _oh my goddesses, but YOU ARE STANDING ON A CORPSE_.

"Oh shit." My thoughts raced ahead of rational logic, fuelled by a burst of adrenaline mixed with abject horror. _What the hell. What the hell, Link. What are you going to do? _I didn't want to look at it, let alone touch it, but the horse refused to move any farther with it in the path and now I had slimy Zora blood all over the bottom of my boot and goddesses-knew what else. _Goddesses, what am I going to do? _I thought with despair. I'd only ever seen real Zoras a handful of times, when they came to visit my mother when I was younger. This was a sick idea of a reunion. If that damn thing didn't blink out of existence in the next few seconds, I might actually become physically sick.

With fumbling fingers I drew an apple from my knapsack and set it into a groove in the wall. Arden lurched forward uneasily toward it while I stood, dumbfounded by the head. I couldn't just kick it out of the way. The expression was frozen in a mask of fear and terror, its eyes half-shut in desolate submission. I couldn't just leave it here.

...But I certainly couldn't take it with me. I stared at it, gaze hard, thoughts whirling. Somewhere off to my left and up ahead, Arden crunched noisily on his apple. I took my sheath in hand and began scratching out a shallow hole into the packed dirt of the trail. When it was finally deep enough, I reluctantly picked up the head and placed it inside the grave. Needless to say it looked incredibly forlorn. Heads weren't exactly meant to be stand-alone features. I'd gotten halfway through with covering it back up again when I realised the body must be somewhere, and someone might be looking for missing... pieces, such as this lovely severed head.

"Isn't that brilliant," I muttered under my breath. Arden had sidled over by now, his heavy head leaning against my good shoulder. We had no choice but to move on. And I didn't want to draw an arrow with the word HEAD written next to it. That seemed just a little too insensitive. Part of an ear poked out of the soil still. If I hadn't been so focused on my dilemma, I might have noticed the cacophony of approaching horsemen.

"DISCARDED LIKE COMMON TRASH!" burst someone behind me. "Look at that Hylian rat! I knew they meant us no good! I told Ralis-"

"Ralis isn't here." Just as I turned to investigate, a hulking Zora placed a finned hand on my injured shoulder and yanked backwards, hard. I let out a low yelp of surprise before it was cut short by a hard blow to the cheek. My attacker spoke with quiet control somewhere above me, "If he had been, this wouldn't have happened. Tella was the sole heir to the throne; she was his _only child_."

"He'll be devastated," agreed another Zora. I couldn't place the voice's directionality; my head rang painfully and my cheek throbbed. I tasted blood, and I felt more than a little dazed. When I opened my eyes, I found about six or seven irate Zoras, all adults and all very much the worse for wear, glaring hatefully down at me. I made to speak, but one of the attending men dealt a sharp kick. _Way to greet people, guys_, I thought bitterly as I gasped for breath. _You've developed quite the friendly touch. Lovely, really._

It occurred to me that I never wanted to see another fish or fish-like being again.

Listening absently amidst the crackling pain, I noticed that the Zoras had apparently reached a moot point over what to do with me. Several argued in favour for immediate disembowelment, and I had to admit, that thought chased the colour out of my quickly swelling face. Others demanded that I be imprisoned and formally sentenced to death, so as not to upset any standing treaties.

_Maybe they've forgotten you're down here_. I peered at the writhing mass, thinking. Well. That seemed extremely unlikely, what with all the screaming going on. The Zoras appeared quite distraught over this turn of events, though I couldn't really blame them. A bold sense of daring seeped through my veins, and soundlessly, slowly, I began to get up - until the leader spotted my escape and once again, delivered a blow that, this time, put me on the verge of consciousness. One of the guards wrestled me to the ground with unnecessary force; something cracked, and I felt my mind straying toward the sticky darkness. _These people are just so friendly_... For all I knew, I'd wake up with most of my internal organs missing. If I woke up at all.

Much to my chagrin, I did wake up. And much to my chagrin _because_ of my chagrin, I felt the throbbing in my head return with a vengeance. Wherever I had been brought, it was cold and damp, reeking of wet stone and slow-moving water. The air smelt dense, stale; it held no warmth because, as I far as I knew, Zoras were perfectly happy in any-temperature water, sans sunlight. And after the serious talk of disembowelment, drowning, and other pleasant possibilities, I doubted very much if they would care when I died from exposure to cold. Or lack of food. Or, in general, of imprisonment. I slumped dejectedly against a rough stone wall and thought immediately of Talo's visit, and Arden's wet nose.

Well, I'd wanted to leave the village and my life there behind, and I'd finally gotten my wish. I wouldn't be doing anything spectacular, so maybe Talo would just assume I'd disappeared into the countryside like a phantom. That would be a much more glamorous end to the makeshift "hero," instead of the whole capture-by-Zoras thing. All around me, the dark walls encroached on where I huddled in the far corner, wet and disoriented, eying the rough bars with distaste. I heard no footsteps, though the sound of trickling water reached me. I had to be somewhere underground for that kind of echo; underground or underwater, or trapped in a very small space elsewhere. The bars wouldn't give easily, I noticed blankly.

Arden still had my packs; my hand immediately flew to my head, where the reassuring touch of what I knew to be careworn green fabric met the groping fingers. Thankfully, I still had my hat. _Lot of good that does you._ Sarcasm aside, it sort of did provide a meagre comfort, just from its familiar fabric. Stroking it almost made me feel a little better over being a prisoner in a six-by-six cell carved out of some smelly damp rock. Miserable, I hugged my knees against my chest, wincing as they brushed against the now-damp bandages and apparently re-broken rib. I'd gotten myself into quite the situation here, as always, because I absolutely loved trying to outdo myself in terms of ridiculous circumstances. At this rate, I should start keeping a list.

_You need to shut up and assess this, Link_, commanded a voice harshly. _Just moping in the dark isn't going to improve your situation in the slightest. This is probably exactly what they want you to do._

'_You're absolutely right. Why else would I be shut up in here to rot for goddesses-know how long? This is the height of Zora hospitality, obviously,_' I thought angrily in response. _'What in Din's name do you expect me to do? Shoot fire from my eyes and melt the stone bars_?'

Something told me that, deep down, I'd been expecting something of that calibre all along. That just opened the floodgates. Talo had said that I had a penchant for drama, and subconsciously I must have been hoping for the utterly outrageous. I crept closer to the bars out of morbid curiosity, placing my hands against the cool stonework. They were not rough, as previously thought; rather, they were textured with ornate carvings of serpents and swirling currents, with shallow pits and tiny hollows for bubbles. If I hadn't been trapped, I might have admired the work more. Then again, even with the threat of imminent death, I'd taken to tracing the patterns along the bars and, as I'd belatedly found, along the walls. It seemed to be a constant design repeated over the mass of uneven stone enclosed in my cell.

"I like how you just sit here and admire the artisanship rather than devising a plan to escape."

I shrugged at the vocalization of bitter, reproachful thoughts. The cell had been shut tightly, with the supposedly sharpened stone bars set deep into the slick floor. Just my luck. _Not that you've been planning anything of the exiting variety._ Glancing at the cell entrance again, I wondered briefly just how much rock or water rested over my head; and after considering all the possibilities, I decided that I wasn't really comfortable with my conclusion. _Not that you can complain_.

The water continued to trickle loudly from somewhere. It didn't rush; instead it sounded like a steady flow, almost like the refugee of a compromised dam. The image was not reassuring. So I turned against the wall, retreating from the bars, and settled into the quiet darkness of the tiny prison. I had just enough room to lie down in either direction, and to stand if I felt like it - which, given the circumstances, I didn't. The constant dripping and splashing eventually lulled me into a stupor where thoughts and fears assailed me from all sides.

_What if you don't make it out of here alive?_ whispered one voice, low and scared. _Will Talo continue hoping? When will he realise you aren't coming back?_

I shifted uncomfortably away from the idea, willing my consciousness to fade away into oblivion.

The voices hissed, each one an awful notion born of dormant terror:

_He's afraid; he's too weak to fight._

_What will Talo tell Ren? He'll wait hopelessly for him._

_His mother would disown him. His father wouldn't recognise him. Renado would scorn him._

_The real Link would be ashamed._

Footsteps carried down the hallway in a staccato rhythm. I woke gently, uneasily, from the brief slumber, the last piercing admittance still hovering even as a metal something rapped against the bars.

"Awake?" a rough voice queried. Jerking myself into full awareness, I watched warily as the Zora's face swam into focus amidst the relentless gloom. He coughed loudly. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," I rasped. I felt rather proud for biting back the sarcastic commentary; Talo would be impressed.

"My... I am King Ralis." His eyes appraised me wordlessly with sharp electricity evident in their bloodshot depths. "I believe you murdered my daughter."

"Sir, I can assure you that I haven't murdered anyone, with the exception of several soldiers but that was totally in self-defence and didn't involve any Zora children." I stood with a series of creaks and rose to my full height, trying my best not to tremble as I faced the Zora leader. His gaze was unforgiving; I stood my ground, incensed suddenly by his accusation. "I was guiding my horse down a trail when he just refused to move, so I got down to see what was wrong. There was this, um, head in the middle of the trail and I didn't know what to do with it so I just buried it-"

"You... buried it." Ralis sounded terribly unconvinced.

"Did I stutter?" Ouch. _Silly Link; just can't keep his tongue to himself._

Snorting, the king snapped, "You enunciated it quite well, since you were wondering." I followed his penetrating gaze suspiciously when it finally rested on my hat. There was no way he'd take my hat. "Where did you get that?" was all he asked, however.

My hand unconsciously creeping up to touch it, I narrowed my eyes. "From a friend." Why the hell was everyone so interested in my goddesses-damned hat?

"A friend."

"You know, it'd be a whole lot easier talking to you if you didn't repeat everything I said," I retorted angrily. Once again, realizing what I'd said and to whom, I felt the intensity deflate somewhat. The irritation remained, and I added reluctantly, "Sir."

Ralis just glared, though he didn't seem outright offended. For several long moments he said nothing, then: "I believe I know this friend. Tell me, is he well?"

Didn't really surprise me; Link must've known all the important people around Hyrule, being a hero and all. Busy work, I bet. I caught myself wondering if he had a girl to come home to - and thought guiltily of my mother, who'd waited her whole life for him to return. "He's dead," I told him shortly, but not without a tinge of regret. "He died almost twenty years ago, I think. Exhaustion?"

Turning away, the Zora let out a deep sigh. "I'd heard reports, you know. My men brought rumours home with them. When the darkness began to creep back through the land, I knew something must have happened, but simply chose not to believe it. What is your name?"

"Link."

He smiled a little. "Were you related?"

"I'm told he was my mother Ilia's best friend," I said softly, shaking my head. His eyes had widened slightly, and I continued, "She died seven years ago. There was a raid in our village."

"Ilia..." Ralis seemed at a loss for words. "Your mother saved my life," he murmured at length. Then he turned and swept down the hallway, shimmering robes fluttering in the grey light.

I stared after him for a long time and wondered if maybe my mother had done something important with her life after all; after witnessing her gradual decline into despair over Link's death, it had seemed as though she'd never been capable of anything noteworthy.

_Your mother saved my life_. My father would've been proud to know. Deep down, I probably was too - problem was, I'd been left once again in a dank cell, all by my lonesome. That recognised, it was a bit difficult to appreciate dead people when you're soon to join them anyway. _Oh, joy. Let's count the rocks on the floor in the meantime. Maybe carve your own tombstone?_


	6. cant you wait

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Can't You Wait by Geographer.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I had a nice row going along the cell walls. They were organised by size and shape, since I couldn't really detect a colour in the grey gloom, though some of the lighter ones seemed to entertain an ethereal glow. The rocks were definitely pretty and unusual, and I decided that if I had the choice to leave here, I'd grab a couple as souvenirs. Masochistic, I must be. Why else would I want a souvenir from where I was held prisoner?

The one I held now looked like a pale, possibly white, seashell because of the ornate swirls engraved along its surface. I let my fingers drift around it, squeezing, for the sole purpose of believing that I still had something to hold onto. If my luck hadn't deserted me yet, Ralis would somehow let me go despite the political unrest it would cause. Then again, for all I knew, the "King" of the Zoras could simply be a figurehead, a cover-up for shady politicians cowering behind spiffy curtains. I was almost positive that he wasn't, though, just based on observation; his people had spoken of him in a very defensive manner... very protective of him. I listened, hard, for any hint of approach, but all that reached me was the quiet trickle of water. Damn it all to hell, but I was really very thirsty.

My gaze wandered back to the rock in my palm, my eyes already adjusting for its brightness- That was when I noticed the hovering velvet characteristic of the shadow. Without missing a beat, she squeezed already bruised ribs.

"Listen to me," she hissed. In the enclosed darkness she took on an even more sinister glow; she blinked, narrowing her eye. "I will help you. In return, you will help me, or I will kill you."

"Those choices are just dandy," I spluttered. The thing glared blatantly at me, by now having realised that this wouldn't be easy. How could it be easy? I could die by being squeezed to death, or whatever this thing preferred, or I could be stabbed to death by the Zoras. Either way, I would die. "Thanks for the offer, but-"

The shadow bared her pointed teeth, as if ready to snap my nose clean off my face. I wouldn't put it past her to eat my hand, and with a twinge of apprehension I wished fervently for the ability to withdraw the extremity and the rock it held. "Let me rephrase this, _Link_. You _will_ come with me; I _will_ free you; you _will_ help me, or I _will_ kill you."

I looked at her calculatingly. Early release, or should I chance the unreliable waters of politics? My thoughts drifted suddenly to my hat and its previous owner. Would Link have given up this easily? The answer came simply as, "Where am I?"

"The Lakebed Temple, beneath Lake Hylia."

Lake Hylia. So I _was _underwater... and underground. Well that just made the escape plan that much more difficult. "Er-" Again I glanced at the shadow, this time with doubt clearly reflected in my gaze. "Exactly how do you propose-?"

"You will be silent." And in the blink of an eye, she'd somehow raised the stone bars from their settings; I stared in shock for several seconds as they quivered from the sudden force. "You will follow. _Follow_," she hissed. "When I issue a command, you will follow it."

The shadow began floating eerily down the dark corridor, and despite the anxiety settling into the warm nest of my stomach, I crept soundlessly after her. She led me through a series of several tunnels before stopping outside of a thick door, set with gorgeous carvings similar to those from my cell. A sudden red flicker in my direction alerted me to her scrutinizing stare.

"We are in one of the lower levels of the structure," murmured the shadow, her voice almost a tender purr. "I'm taking you through the old temple; the Zoras have since built a secondary headquarters that extends into the main cavern." When she drifted right through the door, my mouth ran dry.

_What the hell is she on about?_

"Uh, hello?" I spun around in the darkened corridor, desperately searching for a clue, because there was no doorknob or latch or anything – just thick, rusted bars that effectively disabled the only door. Just as I started to panic again, she reappeared with a sudden thrust of her head _through_ the door, her eye blazing with irritation as she snapped, "What are you waiting for? Come here."

"Sorry, I seemed to have forgotten my shadow powers in my other pants," I spat right back at her.

For a moment she looked as if she was going to materialise in front of me and break my neck. But she didn't. She stared, her eye widened and then narrowed, her gaze suspicious and angry. The shadow didn't move. "Hold your breath," she told me simply, then swooped in to grasp my wrist and pulled.

I gasped; from where her tiny fingers wrapped around my arm, tendrils of grey something began to transform my skin into a shadow-like substance. Somewhere nearby I heard her tell me not to give in, not to forget my purpose, but the world had grown fuzzy with indistinct static. No sooner did I obtain a mental image of some faceless man wearing a hat like mine, did I realise I had been inhaling water. Spluttering and choking, I began to struggle despite her guiding touch. The water didn't even feel right: instead of ...wet and liquid, it felt dense and solid, like I was moving through something warm, thick, and dry, but suffocating all the same, like soil. I desperately struggled to hold my breath, and within seconds that had stretched to accommodate countless eternities, we broke the surface and the shadow released me.

"You must focus!" Occupied by racking coughs, I looked up from where I lay sprawled on the stone to where she perched in the musty air. "If you don't focus on a single purpose, the twilight will dismantle you. What use would you be then?"

"Are you... argh... kidding me?" I stood shakily and regarded her with bitter resentment. "One minute I'm on dry land, and the next I'm being plunged under water. There was no effing warning. No briefing on what would happen. You're freaking lucky that I remembered anything while being subtly _drowned _by some luna-"

"My name," growled the shadow, "is Midna."

"Bit late for introductions, don't you think?" I scowled darkly at her before spitting uncouthly. My ribs burnt and my head throbbed, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins deadened the pain. Suddenly the idea of saving the world didn't appeal at all to me. Seemingly to reinforce that feeling, I glanced around, distastefully taking in the short, narrow hallway we stood in that opened up into a craggy cavern, with what looked like an intricate, floor-to-ceiling metal grate on the far side. Empty, broken lanterns made of shells hung on the walls and cobwebby strings of seaweed trailed from crevices in the ceiling. I knew we were underwater, but I liked being able to breathe without fluid invading my lungs. "Can we never do that again?" I whined.

Midna's eye flashed, softened, then shut in apparent confusion. Her expression contorted until it resembled something akin to being utterly lost, collected and very calm, and furious, in the purest sense. When she glanced at me again, something simmered quietly within her look. "I will lend you his supplies. You will not abuse them, or _I_ will abuse _you_."

"Crystal clear." I watched wordlessly as she conjured up a tiny black vortex of doom, reached a hand inside, and extracted a neatly folded, glimmering set of armour. It looked very light and very Zora-like. _Brilliant. You don't need to _see_ another fish-being; you're going to _become _one._

'_'Cept with better manners_,' I thought sardonically in response.

"Put that on," Midna commanded, gesturing vaguely at the set. She watched, apparently irritated, while I struggled to pull the chain mail over my shoulders, pausing every once in a while to work the gauntlets through the sleeves. While I was halfway into the outfit, she snatched my hat from my head and stuffed it into her creepy little hidey-hole.

"I'll get that back, right?" Midna glared dangerously, but I stood my ground, glaring right back at her as soon as I managed to adjust the mail properly and replace the empty quiver and sheath. "My hat? I want it back unharmed, as soon as I take this thing off. Otherwise I'll burn this thing or something." That garnered a tiny smirk from her. Then she jerked her head and pressed a finger to her tiny mouth, effectively ignoring everything I'd just said.

"Follow."

So I crept after her, occasionally ducking the grimy seaweed as we made our way across the room towards the grate. When we drew closer, a door loomed out of the cold fog that drifted along the cracked tiles of the grubby floor. Distantly I could make out the violent rush of water. With any luck this temple or whatever didn't have a leak. _Sure_, I reasoned, _you've got a magic Zora suit on. But should you trust it? Is trust a matter with this thing? Do magic suits just work on principle?_ Man, I sure hoped so. Midna just floated on unaware of my doubt, her orange ponytail flipping and flopping of its own accord behind her. From what I could tell of her character, that was just like her to turn a blind eye.

Ah. My bad.

All creepy, utterly alien aspects of my apparent guide aside, I was beginning to think that I'd made the wrong decision in agreeing to follow her. She and I both knew that I lacked any real usefulness. For goddesses' sakes, I was ambushed on a deserted trail and kidnapped by a bunch of lost fish-men. I hadn't even attempted to fight back. Looking back on it now, yeah, I was kind of annoyed at my lack of reaction. Why the hell hadn't I reacted? It would've been the logical thing to do, but no, I just had to sit there in the dust like the village idiot and let them kick me. Now, she'd suddenly decided, on the basis of a goddesses-damned _hat_, that I was worth the trouble after all, of begging her for my life after she used me to within an inch of said life. I had such great prospects for the future.

We moved in silence for the most part. Sometimes I thought I could hear her growling or muttering to herself, but the neat designs painted across the walls were significantly more interesting than whatever threats she'd decided to mumble under her breath. These designs appeared in four of the six rooms we passed through, including the current rocky hovel we'd stumbled into after several barred doors, and a few that very reluctantly shuddered into the ceiling with a helpful little nudge of Midna's vicious brand of magic. I was just about to set my shoulder against yet another door when she stopped without warning.

Barely holding onto my yelp of surprise, I stared in disbelief as she spun around to face me, waited a beat, then said in a matter-of-fact monotone, "I want to talk to you before we go any further."

"You have everything backwards when it comes to social interaction," I commented automatically. She just glared, doing her best to look as murderous as possible while hovering in front of my face. And for the record, she was really very good at looking murderous. I wanted to put a hand protectively over my nose, but somehow I didn't think that would be a good move on my part.

Midna turned away as her eyelid drifted lazily to a slit. "You survived the test." Shocked, I watched her position herself so that she sat cross-legged, calm as anything, her mouth bent by a tiny smirk at my reaction. How could she possibly know about that? That happened two years ago, so unless she was stalking me- Wait. _Was_ she stalking me? What the hell. "And you killed those soldiers. You have some skill, and that makes you valuable to me. I have the sword they confiscated from you; I will let you borrow his shield-"

"Yeah, real skill, yeah," I mumbled back, thoroughly irritated. "I'm just _so_ talented. That's why I got freaking ambushed by a bunch of fish. You can keep the damn sword. Did you happen to get my bow? Are you stalking me?"

Her eye twitched. "Do I look like your pack mule? I didn't think so. So stop asking stupid questions and do as I tell you, or I'll kill you the same way I killed that other boy." As if to prove her wicked nature, she bared her little pointed teeth. "He escaped the soldiers, but he couldn't escape me."

That stopped me in my tracks. "Thanks for killing my cousin, asshole."

Carelessly tossing her hair, she snapped back, "He was useless. He couldn't handle himself-"

"That doesn't sound familiar at all!" Drawing up my shoulders, I put my hands on my hips and scowled at her, anger flaring from somewhere deep in my chest. Here we were, standing in some goddesses-forsaken cavern of a room, doused in half-shadows and a fine salt mist, all alone except for each other and whatever lurked in the darkness. I was all alone, except for the monster that mauled my cousin years ago; Link, Malo and Beth's eldest son, and one of the first that Ordon sent to earn citizenship. Coincidentally he was also one of the first to die. Maybe if I stuck around long enough, I could get the upper hand and take my revenge on this crazy shadow-creature. I'd only ever heard stories about cousin Link, but I knew that his death was the catalyst for his parents' emigration from the village. My lack of a personal connection, however, more than provided a somewhat compensatory reason for staying and working with this Midna. In the end, if I played my cards right, maybe I could get something out of it – maybe I could go home a hero.

Shaking my head violently, I knocked the thought aside. I didn't want that. No, what I wanted involved getting out of this goddesses-forsaken place and going home. "Look," I told the clearly unimpressed imp, "I just want to go home, okay? I'm not cut out for whatever crazy idea you've come up with, and- get that thing away from me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," she growled. Midna shook the sword in my face, trying to get me to take it but I only held up my hands and moved away. "You can't defend yourself with your bare hands!"

I leant forward as earnestly as I could. "I don't want to defend myself! Why can't you just let me out of here? The last thing I want to do is stain my tunic with some guy's arterial spray."

For a second, I honestly believed she was going to take the sword and shove it down my throat out of spite or fury or something equally nasty. Instead she just fumed silently, still floating in midair, but snapped her fingers and returned the sword to her strange vortex of storage. "You know what? Fine! But at the very least use this. Even an idiot like you should be able to handle a blunt piece of wood." And then she tossed a heavy boomerang at my head and I cringed, holding it delicately between two fingers as if fearing teeth.

"I don't want a weapon!" I whined at her. "Why can't I just bargain with Ralis?"

Midna only gnashed her teeth together. Her expression remained that way for a good minute or two before slowly subsiding into one of pure condescension as she turned her back on me. "You are nothing like your namesake."

My hand snaked out and grasped her shoulder, spinning her around to face me; her eye widened again in surprise, but I ignored her reaction, the stupid boomerang discarded on the floor. "Look," I burst, "I am just Link. Okay? I don't freaking care who my parents named me after, because I'm not that guy and I never will be. We are two different people. Just because I'm named after him doesn't make me some creepy reincarnation or anything- Hell, if I named a kid 'Apple,' that doesn't make the kid an apple, now does it? Right, I mean, I- You can't just- It's so-so stupid, to even, to try to- " She watched me stutter, watched me desperately search my mind for a better example, with something like shocked amusement colouring her compact features. "...And-and I don't appreciate you expecting his reactions and characteristics from me. I'm _not _him, and throwing that in my face every few seconds won't effing change the fact. Farore, Nayru, and _Din_."

The breath streamed out in a long hiss, with her eyes following its progress somehow. And - _goddesses-dammit_ - but she was smiling; Midna was freaking smiling. "I guess I'm amusing, huh? Is that my only redeeming social value? I'm _amusing_?" That somehow hurt me. Was I just not worth taking seriously? Did _my_ feelings pale in comparison to Link's overwhelming aura? The guy was dead - what the _hell_.

"Very," was all she allowed. Then she levitated the fallen boomerang into my hands. "Here. Use this for the time being. Obviously, if you throw it, it'll come back at some point."

I hefted the thing, staring blankly. "Thanks. I'd've never guessed." Farore. She moved on down the corridor with her ears quivering and her eye roving and her focus fixed on anything but me. How did I manage to get myself into this situation? For being a decent Hylian citizen and paying my respects to a... a head, everyone wanted to kill me. The Zoras wanted to poke me full of holes and then electrocute me, and this crazy shadow monster planned on upping her sadism by essentially enslaving me under threat of death. Karma either really sucked, or had a terribly backwards way of working. Or maybe I was just exempt from the whole "give" part of the give-and-take cycle. I hated karma.

Just as I set my thoughts to some serious esoteric thinking, she screamed at me to get ready, to duck, to _throw the damn thing before you get plastered against the wall, nimrod!_ because a little wrinkled thing was charging at me from out of nowhere and, panicking, I lowered the boomerang and hacked at the helmet the thing wore. I couldn't get my hands around the helmet since the slimy metal slid harmlessly against the tough leather gauntlets that covered my palms, eliminated any hope whatsoever for friction. When the edge of the heavy wood finally made contact with the soft flesh, it squealed in a ridiculously high pitch before turning tail and vanishing for a split second. I'd just let out a shaky breath when it came hurtling from around the bend with its head lowered and war cry echoing.

"SHIT!"

The metal helmet sailed right into my hands, and with gnashed teeth I forced it back, trying to pretend that my feet weren't sliding backwards at a constant rate. I smashed the boomerang down on its head repeatedly, beating the thing and wishing it would just dissolve into a mucky pulp like all the other monsters from my nightmares. Like all the other internal manifestations of random fears. Icy panic and molten adrenaline slammed in me at the same time; suddenly I could smell the heavy musky scent of the leathery creature beneath my hands, and the tang of stale salty air. My heart was hammering so hard I was afraid it might make a run for it through my sternum, and succeed.

Still panicking, I glanced around blindly for any sign of the stupid imp amongst the craggy walls and dried-up seaweed. To my alarm, red eyes didn't peer back from the murky darkness. I hollered her name, but she'd vanished, probably residing in some balcony seat while I got trampled and smashed to death by this little _thing_. The flare of indignation brought the boomerang down hard, just beneath the helmet, onto what, if I moved my fingers the slightest bit, felt like a spine. It let loose a furious squeak before fleeing to recover.

_What the hell. What the hell. What the hell._

I could hear it stamping its feet a little ways ahead along the path; fear coursed through me, but even stronger was the compulsion to _do_ something. I couldn't just let this little _thing _beat me into the wall. With an unsteady grasp on the situation, I positioned myself against the wall and pressed my body against it. The thing rocketed back down the hall with such speed that I almost lost track of it - and then I'd leapt at it, boomerang raised, and with my free hand, once again forced it to halt at arm's length with my fingers numbly clutching the top edge of the helmet. After groping around the area for a few frantic seconds while the little devil squirmed violently, I once again hooked the boomerang under the metal, this time smashing the spine. It loosed a single strangled scream before staggering sideways and erupting into a tiny explosion. The helmet clattered the ground in the stunned silence that followed.

"_Goddesses_." I swore again, louder and harsher, a hand clutching at my chest. "_Farore, Nayru, and Din_." With the relief came the urge to collapse somewhere and dissolve into helpless tears, but I knew that wasn't practical. Instead I poked at the helmet and wondered what use it might come to if I brought it with me. Not that that was any more practical than the former, but it also wasn't like someone had made a set of rules to follow – I had never in my life seen a _What to Do When Traversing Abandoned Subterranean Temples and Faced with Murderous Little Bastards in Metal Helmets_. If I had, and actually read it, the panic might not be clinging to the edges of my vision as black spots and silver stars right now, and hopelessly distracting me from the bigger reality of _Oh my goddesses, but you could have died right there holy shit what the hell _. Maybe helpless tears were totally warranted in the event of near-death experiences.

Sounds of a scuffle erupted from above, and as I looked up, I noticed Midna wrestling something from a particularly thick growth of vines. She noticed my look. "Oh bra-_vo_," she sneered, "you didn't get yourself killed after all."

"Nah, sorry to disappoint."

The shadow cursed wildly and blasted the vines with something dark and crackling that exploded from her palm. She looked so capable. _Great to know that she could've dispatched that thing within a heartbeat. Sadistic bitch._ Shrivelled pieces of leaves and burnt twigs thumped to the floor around me; I looked up, unimpressed and somewhat disgusted. The growths had a sickly cream colour, almost fungal in appearance, probably from the lack of light in an underwater structure such as this. I shouldn't have been surprised, but goddesses. This place seriously gave me the creeps. If I didn't get out of here soon, I might develop a tacky nervous tic.

"That's lovely, really," I drawled lamely. "You can't _really_ rain on my parade, so you shower me with burnt vegetation? How thoughtful of you."

Midna hissed with her best menacing face, but her glare quickly softened into complacency. Her hand reached up and tugged on a tarnished metal handle. "This should open a door somewhere ahead. I had to scout out an unused path so as not to be discovered; and hence, all the nasty little creatures you're soon to encounter."

"Brilliant," I muttered dryly. "I love company. What's more, I love company with homicidal tendencies. The more the merrier!"

Mirroring my tone, she simpered, "You're quite hysterical when you're frightened." A nasty smirk curled her mean little mouth while a star-like hand rested against a cocked hip. The picture of malevolence. "Stop whining for once."

The hell I'd stop whining. Farore, but 'frightened' didn't do this awful crowded feeling justice. I felt cornered and desperate, just as I had back in Faron when it had taken everything in me to run and dodge and hide from those goddesses-damned soldiers during that goddesses-damned test. Normal people like me shouldn't have to experience such intense negative emotions like that, and yet, here I was, back and begging for an encore. The only thing missing from this situation was acrid smoke and pointy objects, but I was positive that would be remedied in time, especially once we emerged into the Zora headquarters proper. Panic and I would be great friends by the time these eyes of mine saw daylight again.

I scowled at the hovering shadow, which had by now descended to my eye level. "Your warning wasn't much of a warning. You suck as a guide or whatever you're trying to be. You're going to get me killed and then we'll both be screwed and-" Predictably, it didn't appear as though she'd heard anything of what I'd just said. Annoyed, I grumpily crossed my arms over my chest as she raised yet another barred door. "And besides, I'm a lover, not a fighter."

She actually laughed then, a short, hollow bark that sounded rusty even to my ears. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard; they're one and the same. Stupid boy," she added quietly as she moved away, that speculative look set in her eye.

"I heard that." But I followed anyway. This just heaped more evidence onto the _Positive for Masochism_ pile. Midna just smirked again.


	7. this too shall pass

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: This Too Shall Pass by OK Go.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Well, the trip was certainly scenic - probably the only real pleasant aspect of the subterranean temple. I brandished the boomerang with aching white knuckles, my eyes trained on the path ahead for any more wicked creatures that might decide to prey on innocent refugees such as myself. Midna thought my attitude was funny; _had_ thought it was funny for the past fifteen rooms, in which I'd been forced to dispatch several nuisances with varying degrees of efficiency. _Excuse me for not giving into homicidal tendencies during my childhood and perfecting your patron art._

"You look like a troll," she muttered, apparently annoyed.

I looked at her thoughtfully. "You look like a goat-headed imp."

Glaring, she accelerated a little as she continued along a short passageway, towards yet another carved door. The temple engineer certainly had a penchant for patterns and unnecessary ornamentation; almost every surface in the place had some sort of design inlaid. She halted abruptly, expectantly, at the exit. For all of her projected haughtiness, she couldn't open this particular goddesses-damned door?

"If I remember correctly, there should be a short hall that leads into a larger room with a set of vines; you'll have to climb them with... with his clawshot," Midna explained quietly. "After that, we need to take the first door to the main chamber. There might be some Zoras in the larger room..." She shook her head as if puzzled. "We'll see."

"_If_ you remember correctly." My hands had begun shaking again. "Listen, can't we stop for a little?" My request sounded breathy, and weak; I cringed, and attempted to justify myself. "The Zoras weren't exactly gentle when they invited me over for tea."

Midna's gaze searched mine, confounded and startled. "Stop?" She adopted a look that quite plainly said, _What is this 'stop' you speak of?_ But then she blinked and shook her head. "We can't stop. What if more monsters stumble along this way? They moved in through tiny cracks and crevices in this place, surviving off of magic in the most extreme scenarios. This place was built to keep people out." Shaking her head, she pointed at the door with firm insistence. "Move on; if you see any pottery, stop and check them."

_Stop and check them_, I snorted silently. _What does she take me for, a common thief?_ Clutching my boomerang, I reached for the door with a tentative hand; it opened easily, an action in itself that perhaps foreshadowed certain doom. "Well, I guess there's no going back now, right?" She looked away when I glanced at her for reassurance, and I felt the anger rise substantially. Now I was relying on her? The same raving lunatic that tried to kill me? Eyes narrowed, I opened my mouth to address Midna when I realised that she had dissolved into her purest state: a shadow, a mere flickering on the stone floor where my own resided. _Great to know I've got the cavalry behind me._

The hallway was indeed quite short, and very much deserted aside from several dusty jars. Her incessant whispers instructed me to reach inside and explore the contents. I scowled at the dark splotch writhing on the floor.

"You want me to jam my hand into some abandoned pot?" I demanded. "Things are usually _abandoned _with good reason! You said yourself that this place is built to keep people out- What's that supposed to mean for the people trapped inside?"

"_You_ were the one complaining earlier," she accused. Her head materialised suddenly, complete with a blazing eye. "Break them if you have to, I don't care; just collect the contents if they're any good. Sometimes fairies find their way in, or sages purposefully hide potion and rupees-"

"So, I'm supposed to believe that someone went through here, for their own personal amusement, and stashed a bunch of goodies for trespassers like me to find?" When she didn't even acknowledge my words, I snorted at her. "Psh, break them. What the hell." Turning back to the trio of clay jars, I eyed them warily, hefting the boomerang. If I stood off to the side a little and maybe just - flicked my wrist... like this... The weapon lit with a dazzling green glow while a rushing sound filled the tiny space, echoing and echoing until I thought I'd burst an eardrum somewhere in a previous room. I'd dropped it on instinct when it vibrated, shining in the gloom, and with a speed belying its weight, the weapon smashed into the three jars in a neat succession. It returned to my startled grasp bearing a half-dead fairy and a grimy blue rupee, the latter of which I pocketed in a heartbeat. _I like this boomerang_.

"Well, use her, you dunce."

I glanced at the shadow and its baleful stare. "Use what?"

"The broken pieces of clay," she said emphatically, and if I hadn't been so accustomed to my own occasional use of blatant condescension, I might have believed her. "The _fairy_. She's fading fast. Blow on her."

As much as I wanted to comment on how stupid it sounded, I couldn't deny how badly I wanted a little anaesthetic. Carefully cupping the dull lump of sparkles in my hand, I breathed a slow puff of air over the tiny creature until her glow brightened the slightest bit, and she took flight, sprinkling me with what little healing power she had left. Immediately the pain in my head and chest receded, as if blanketed abruptly with nurturing magic. And in a way, I guess they had been somehow. Midna had that complacent look about her again. I nearly kicked down the final door out of spite.

...And nearly skewered myself onto a Zora trident. The owner's eyes widened significantly, his mouth opening to give the alarm – and in a split second, I'd knocked him unconscious with the boomerang, practically frozen with terror. He slid noiselessly to the stone floor, leaving me to stare helplessly at the sentient being I'd just attacked.

"Don't just stand there!" hissed my shadow. "_Move!_ Before another finds you! Use this-" Something heavy and metallic and oddly warm forced its way into my free hand, and I thanked the goddesses profusely for making me ambidextrous. Together we raced down the winding corridor until I reached the most intricate archway yet, beyond which a pair of guards leant against a balcony. This level, the upper-level of a spectacular grotto, connected to the main tide-washed floor by way of a beautiful staircase about fifty meters to the right of where I stood. Luckily for me, however, the two Zoras were facing the opposite balcony, too busy making some sort of bet or other shady deal on the proceedings to notice little old me slinking along the shadowy wall. Down below, I spied what looked like a stage at the front, shrouded in expensive-looking curtains and precious shells; a podium stood nearby, and spread out in a radiating arc were- Wait a second.

Zora guards, in full ornamental dress?

An entire school of Zoras down below, conducting some sort of official business?

I swore. "Farore, Nayru, and Din, but don't freaking tell me that you've led me right to the freaking _conference_ room of all places." But no sooner did I shut my mouth, did the two guards I'd bypassed unexpectedly discover their decommissioned friend. The taller of the two ran for the body, while the other turned – and stared right at me, his face a mask of confusion.

"Shoot for the grate before they catch you!"

Despair trickled through my chest. Spinning around quickly, I caught a flash of grey-blue out of my peripheral vision, automatically bringing the heavy piece level with the golden grating that veiled the entire staircase, my arm shaking with the effort. _C'mon, Link. Stop being such a wimp – just lift the damn thing and fire!_ My finger had moved to the smooth surface of the button when the shout cut clear across the room from another balcony:

"STOP!"

The response was immediate; several of the patrolmen bounded over the slick tiles, weapons raised, every single one of them screaming their heads off about retribution and Zora tradition and other dreadful consequences of escape. I jammed my thumb onto the button without further ado, the glorious liberating rush of adrenaline once again winding its way through my system. The anchor buried itself into the ornamental awning but before the recoil clicked into action, I shouted a vague warning at Midna to hang on. The momentum of our flight sent me crashing_through_ the gold work, so that my left boot dangled awkwardly in the actual stairwell. With a wrenching effort, I managed to pull myself back onto the jagged grating, only sliding a few meters before catching a convenient curlicue.

However, in making such a dramatic entrance, I managed to attract the attention of every single person in the room, including the ones rushing at me with pointy sticks. I scrambled furiously, fumbling the clawshot with cold hands until I finally caught sight of the vines she'd told me about. Someone must've ordered a serious renovation, meaning that _someone_ needed to update their mental map before telling people _Oh hey, it's okay to go charging into this room because your escape route is actually _nowhere near_ where I said it was_.

The cavern was roughly square, with the staircase to the south, the two upper balconies representing east and west, and the grandiose, vine-shrouded door opening to the glorious north. The entire assembly lay between me and the exit, since the architect had arranged the seats in an enormous circle around a raised central podium. With nothing left to lose and no other means of escape, I lurched forward, boots scrambling over the smooth metal, clawshot aimed at the vines, just as every guard in the goddesses-damned place attempted to hurl tridents at me. A rushing, whirring sound – and then I was flying over the heads of the stunned crowd and thrown gracelessly into the wall, which I spectacularly failed to grasp. Instead of landing on my feet and waving cheekily, I staggered upright and blindly ran into the door twice before Midna took pity and opened it for me. The clawshot wasn't in my hands but the hell if I was going to worry about it now. At least if she decided to kill me, I knew it wouldn't involve blood.

_Okay_, I thought, feelings and reactions whirling in a tangled mass; _okay, so you made it. Except there's another door but that's okay 'cause it's just across the room and all you have to do is go through it. Door, door – go through the door._ I forced my way through the heavy entrance and stumbled, propelled by my own hurried movement, to the edge of an open drop into a pool almost a floor below.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

Midna extricated herself from the pale grey slant by my feet. "Shut up!" she snapped, clamping a hand over my mouth and yanking me backwards. Unceremoniously she spun me around, pointing at a shiny brass pull-lever hanging from the ceiling. "Run at it and grab it! It should swing the staircase this way – this way's blocked, they'll be here any second-"

I actually didn't bother to process her request. If I had, I might have realised my intense hatred of staircases. Instead, I sprinted forward and lunged for the switch, my hands slippery with cold sweat and clumsy in the armour's hand guards. _Where the _hell_ are my gauntlets?_ The lever shifted with a lurch and dropped downward, leaving me to scramble desperately as a heavy – and disgustingly ornate – staircase swung my way with startling speed. I lifted my legs just in time and dropped down onto the stairs, only to be rewarded with another near-drowning in rushing lake water. It surged over my head and I panicked; then I took a breath, realised I could breathe, and began fighting my way up the flight just as angry cries echoed throughout the room._Goddesses-damn it! Give me an effing break!_

A Zora appeared suddenly in the water just above me, waving a spear in my face. The clawshot appeared instantly in my hands and, wasting no time in pondering its origins, I allowed the anchor to knock away the offending weapon. The soldier charged at me and I dodged, equally as nimble as any fish-faced ruffian_, _and darted up the stairs once again. At the top I skidded to a halt in ankle-deep water, tossing my gaze around with frazzled nervousness.

"What the hell Midna! What the hell!"

She had to bellow in my ear to be heard over the roaring water: "Take that door! The big fancy one!"

Okay. Simple idea. _Except for the freaking huge Zora guards hurtling right at me – and not to mention the _other _pair of gigantic Zora guards watching the exit._ FARORE, NAYRU, AND DIN; WHEN WOULD IT FREAKING END?

Panic attack – I felt it coming on just then, with the way I was suddenly hyperaware of the salty stink of the water, the gurgling yells of the approaching Zoras, the form-fitting armour pressing against the oddly dry material of my tunic. And then my body ducked of its own accord, spun almost gracefully out of the way, and skilfully knocked away the weapons with the clawshot. Then the boomerang whipped out of my belt and stunned all four, and they toppled clumsily to the floor in a heap.

And then I ran like hell for the door, burst through, and kept sprinting until I took a headlong leap into a pool of water.

x

"What the hell. I don't _ever _want to do _anything_ like that again. What the bloody _hell_."

Only a few terrifying hours had passed since my daring escape, leaving me skittish and expectant of tridents stabbing through the nearby underbrush. Midna had curtailed my wild dash from the lake, somehow convincing me to burrow into the thick loam of a stand of trees, about half a mile from the lake trail's entrance. The heavy smell of the rich soil and the acrid smoke of soggy wood made it hard to breath – not to mention how the night air was so humid, I should've just stayed in the goddesses-damned lake, because the stupid grass was soaking my tunic despite my proximity to the fire. I wouldn't have cared as much if she'd let me keep the Zora armour, since it was waterproof. But I wasn't about to complain now that I'd reached dry land where – goddesses willing – the scary fishmen wouldn't find me.

"Oh, stop whining," Midna snapped angrily. She tossed my hat at me and I snatched it up with covetous hands. "Put your damn hat on and be quiet for once."

I glared at her. "Don't freaking tell me to be quiet after you put me through that-"

"_I_ didn't put you through anything. If you didn't want to die right then and there in that cell - that was your choice. I just helped you finalise it."

She turned away, suddenly disdainful. I glared some more at her back out of spite, but returned to poking at the fire with jerking, sulky movements. My hair hadn't dried out yet, no matter how much I rubbed at it with dry grass. I wanted it to dry already. I also wanted my effing horse, and all the stuff he was carrying around for me. And, even if it would be a miracle, I wanted to know just what the hell I'd gotten myself into. With a disgruntled sigh, I jammed my hat onto my head and hugged myself, then shuffled a little closer to the flames.

"What am I gonna do about my supplies?" I asked quietly.

Midna spared a fleeting glance before resuming sentry duty near the entrance of the thicket. We'd made camp near the high bordering cliffs of Hyrule Field, amongst beeches and briars. Her eye flickered eerily in the darkness, and immediately I thought of our first encounter.

"Don't you have something you can call him with?"

I stared at her.

"You're more useless than I thought," she muttered. Then she grabbed something out of the grass and tossed it at my feet. "Blow into that and see what happens."

The melody lent the evening a soft warmth separate from the fire's glow. Straining my eyes, I watched carefully for any sign of movement, but nothing had changed. I shared my doubts. "What exactly was that supposed to accomplish, if I may be so bold to inquire?"

She scoffed at me, "It's an old call that he used for-" In the absence of the song, hoof beats thudded closer and closer, seemingly beating the earth in time to an ethereal heart. Midna's eye glinted sadly as her eyelid drifted shut at an angle. "-for Epona. Hello girl," she purred in a low, throaty whisper. The greying mare whinnied in response.

"Well she's certainly pretty," I offered awkwardly. Midna had begun stroking the animal with tender pats and rubs, her face buried in the tangles of its mane. "Epona, is it?" The horse swung her head towards me with that familiar glitter in her liquid eyes. I knew at once that she wasn't just an animal; Arden had the same sparkle of intelligence that made him a pain in the ass when he didn't get his way. Epona didn't shy away when I reached for her, which apparently both impressed and outraged mercurial little Midna.

"For the time being, she is on loan."

I stared at her again, eyes narrowing slowly. I hadn't asked for _a_ horse, even if she happened to be Link's, and especially when she appeared on the verge of kicking the bucket. If I had a secret signal to summon Arden, I'd have used it already and beaten it the hell out of here. Besides, Midna's attitude was really starting to irk me – to the point where bravery, stupidity, or fatal exhaustion goaded me into asking, "Just what the hell is your problem? Link is freaking dead."

That was when I realised Link wasn't the best topic for conversation when it came to creepy shadows or faithful steeds. First I got a solid kick to the chest, and then little Miss Sunshine grappled with me, forcing me into a rather painful position against the rough ground, my face dangerously close to the fire.

"HE. IS. NOT. DEAD," growled Midna menacingly. I felt her fang pricking my scalp through my hat, but I said nothing, just gasped and panted as I struggled to draw breath through her stranglehold. That freaking horse had broken yet another freaking rib; compared to the shadow's reaction, however, I was quite ready to settle back against the rock face and lick my wounds without much of a grudge. She released me within the next pain-laced minute or so and I retreated, clutching my side and cursing loudly at the ground. My assailant completely ignored this. Not that I expected anything less, or goddesses forbid _benevolent_, but Farore, Nayru, and Din, just why the hell didn't she just kill me and get it over with? Even the damn horse knew I wouldn't be any use to anyone, even myself. The only person I was benefiting with my adventure, was Renado, and only because without me, he became the sole representative of our family and the sole recipient of assistance from the government. And even _that_ wasn't really a given, depending on how badly Desn wanted to ruin my life and everything connected to it. Goddesses, but it probably would've been a better idea to have just stayed home and looked after Ren and shut my goddesses-damned mouth for once.

While I drowned myself with a pity party, Midna disappeared with Epona in order to have a conversation, of all things. So I huddled against the rock and convinced myself this was all a bad dream – moments before it started to pour, therefore successfully crushing what little hope I had.


	8. when you were young

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: When You Were Young by The Killers.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

_

* * *

_

Just the name managed to creep me out. Seriously. After her little outburst last night, she'd roughly jerked me awake this morning to outline our next stop. In all honesty I'd somehow expected to be finished with her and everything she stood for; I figured that once I got out of the Lakebed Temple, she'd realise that I would be no help to her after all. Unfortunately this hadn't been the case – and because of it, I'd broken something again.

She hit me with a small crab-apple in an attempt to rouse me from an already uncomfortable rest. "Get up, you lazy oaf," Midna snarled. She tossed another piece of fruit, this one harder and more rock-like. I sat up and glared at her, annoyed.

"Do you ever play nice?"

"Eat the damn apple."

It was hard and green and entirely unappetizing. I hefted the first one in my hand and examined it closely for any major defects. "What's the occasion?" I asked casually, biting into the apple and wincing at the sour taste. Trust a goddesses-damned shadow to pick the worst of the bunch.

Appraising me with disinterest, she said simply, "We're moving on. Gather your things and let's go. Scatter the ashes of the fire while you're at it; make it look like we were never here." She floated out of the thicket and toward the open expanse of the Field without another word. How Link could've worked with someone so bipolar... Shaking my head, I bit deep into the apple, freeing up my hands, and gingerly moved the remnants of the campsite back into the underbrush, decidedly ignoring the twinges of pain. By the time I'd finished both the exiting routine and the tiny apple, Midna had returned with a rumpled map.

"We'll be heading to the Arbiter's Grounds." She pointed roughly at another point, one situated smack-dab in the centre of a huge lake. "We need to go here-"

"Don't tell me that's Lake Hylia," I interrupted angrily. "There's no freaking way I'm going back there." Yes, I was being completely and ridiculously unreasonable, but after capture, imprisonment, escape, and frantic sprint through the dark with a shadow nipping at my heels – Farore, Nayru, and Din, but I was finished with that place. No more freaking Zoras, and nothing even remotely resembling a Zora. I was sick and tired of being beat up for doing absolutely nothing wrong. And yeah, I still resented Midna for her little episodes of assault.

Her eyes held an icy shard amidst unadulterated hatred. _That's new_. She jammed her finger into the map with a loud crinkling noise. "Coward," she spat at me. "_Yes_, this is Lake Hylia. What do you expect? The men with the shop down on the shores went out of business a long time ago, but the cannon should still be there. If it still works, we'll use that to shoot across the gap; if it doesn't work, we'll have to pick our way through one of the subterranean tunnels. Leave if you want, but you won't get far."

I stared at her. _There're those damn fangs of hers again_. Then I sighed in resignation. Cannon? Tunnels? My ribs were freaking _broken_ again. Despite knowing that my words would come across as more nervous and uncertain than I would've liked, I opened my mouth to speak anyway. But these weren't ideal circumstances, so one way or another, I found myself simply not caring anymore. "Midna, darling, your solutions are always the best of the lot. Of _course_ I'll accompany you on your ducky little _quest_."

She shifted into a stoic expression and floated away again, this time beckoning for me to follow. "Cut some grass, find some fairies, and let's go."

I stared some more. Yes, fairies were woodland creatures that frequently made their homes in dark, warm places, such as abandoned pots in deserted temples, or clumps of dry grass in a sunny field. However, their strength varied greatly, to the point where Ilia referred to the non-spring dwelling fairies as "little hearts" due to their limited effect. But if Midna expected me to wander around the place, poking random bunches of grass, she was sadly mistaken.

Well. She _would've _been sadly mistaken, if it weren't for the incredible soreness radiating from what had to be horseshoe-shaped bruises. Violently, I yanked some grass out by the roots, showering myself in the loose dirt and some vague traces of magic from the "little heart" that had been sleeping at the root of the blades. She worked her magic by alleviating the worst of the throbbing ache, enough for me to head in the direction Midna had taken into the open field, towards the main trail that led back down to the lake.

Midna still had the map in her tiny hands. She was floating under the shade of a particularly large tree, her lips pulled to the side in consternation as she perused the worn parchment. Even after I sidled up alongside her and attempted to read over her shoulder, she didn't respond, and so I turned contemplative as well. Sometimes I liked to join the crowd. Other times, I got extremely bored extremely easily, and ended up spacing out and pondering the meaning of life. And it kind of surprised me, since my usual episodes involved staring into space and ignoring major problems by focusing on insignificant things, like a broken buckle on a belt pouch, or the rock jammed in my right boot. In the past I had always managed to avoid any lasting guilt or anger or regret by living exclusively in the moment rather than dwelling on what I had done. I knew the method worked; it was one of my fundamental postulates. Even as I fought my way through underbrush as we eventually skulked our way toward the lake in silence, I struggled with once again accepting the soft blanket of oblivion that came standard with the mindset. But this time, I just couldn't.

I hated it. More than anything I wanted to block out the fact that I had fled imprisonment only to become a hostage. What was more, I didn't even know what she wanted me to do for her. I cringed inwardly at my idiocy; why hadn't I asked when she first proposed the escape, and the subsequent agreement? That probably would've been my perfect namesake's top priority – then again, he probably wouldn't have ever gotten himself into this situation in the first place.

"Hey, Midna?" I recognised her eye staring at me from my shadow, right between my feet; it was disconcerting the way she'd casually separate herself from the real shadows, but still refuse to address me on my level. Goddesses-damn it, but she had condescension down to a science. "What exactly do you want me to help you with?" When she reluctantly rose to address me directly, I knew I wouldn't like whatever she had to say.

"I need to rescue Link. You will help me." _Either she's more disillusioned than previously thought, or she's dead serious and you're caught up in the middle of this._ "And yes, I'm serious." _Oh. Joy._

"You, uh - you know I'm no hero, right?" I had to ask. Goddesses only knew what the rescue would entail, since rescues aren't meant to be simple in practice; they're hypothetical plans. Din, but the guy was dead anyway. Talo said he'd seen Link die in Kakariko.

Midna laughed again, but it sounded more like a hysterical shriek. "You, a hero?" She cackled again, dissolving into my shadow for several long moments before bobbing to the surface once more; I'd stopped walking long enough to scowl down at her. "Of course I know. You're nothing compared to Link. It's a mockery for you to even share his name," she added scornfully.

"Way to, uh, boost my self-esteem," I muttered sullenly.

"Aw, don't cry-" Midna grinned, a wide smile that bared her menacing teeth and the sick gleam of her eye. "When it comes to Link, _no one_ will _ever_ measure up, because he isn't in it as a hero. He does what needs to be done." She vanished after that, refusing to respond other than to offer curt directions.

Great to know I could never fill his boots. Not that I really wanted to, per se, if filling his boots earned this murderous, unscrupulous imp's affection. Maybe he was a total bastard and Talo and the others just saw what they wanted to see: a hero, a knight in shining armour, a savoir. Her words, however, offered both relief and apprehension. If she knew I wasn't much use, then why was I still here? Completely disregarding that potentially really awkward answer, I'd be stuck with this crazy shadow for a good while, and with that knowledge, I wanted to take a stab at a working relationship. I didn't want to be friends; I just wanted some assurance. I needed to know I could trust her, to some small degree for whatever it was worth. I had a serious knack for finding new ways to make myself miserable.

Turning back to the trail, I concentrated on the clearing up ahead. A stone something crouched over a small void that recognised immediately as the bridge I'd fled over the night before. Despite the warm morning sunshine, the stonework didn't appear any friendlier, mainly because I knew what it led to: all those effing Zoras. Casting a glance down at my shadow before flicking it back up to the bridge, I slowed to a stop just as I crested the slight incline.

"Midna, I think they're looking for me." Her head popped up again as she swung around to stare at the tiny figures patrolling the bridge. "Those aren't Hyrulean soldiers, either."

"Did you expect a welcoming committee?" was all she replied. I could see her eye narrowing slightly though; I followed her gaze nervously when the figures paced back across the span, one of them moving to cover the outer area. "They are kind of tall, though. Use the hawkeye." She tossed something shiny and silver at me, and I caught it just barely with the tips of my fingers. They looked like fancy binoculars, so I set them against my face and, with a jolt, realised that they were indeed a troop of Zoras. Great. I felt my stomach tighten into a cold knot.

"There's a whole company on that damn bridge."

"All that 'I'm a lover, not a fighter' shit they've been feeding you... Look where it gets you, you stupid fool," Midna snapped at me, her hand having extricated itself from my shadow and begun gesturing wildly at the guards. "It all comes back to haunt you! You're weak, that's what you are. Link would have taken care of them in a heartbeat. Keep moving; we need to get to the Lake." Still muttering furiously, she slipped back into the darkness.

My teeth grated against one another; I knew she was right, but how could I just... How could I kill something when it was right in front of me? And with a boomerang? I couldn't just stand there and clobber something's brains out, especially a Zora's. It had a real brain. I winced a little at the thought. Link had more experience... He wasn't just some kid banished from his village for being a smartass one too many times. Link had had a purpose all along, and – it actually was very funny to think about it – and here I was, trying to take his place, when I couldn't even face an enemy without cowering or fleeing. Except, these enemies were people, and maybe they even had a right to be upset with me. And if Link went around killing random people that happened to get in his way, then I didn't ever want to be like that.

With a heavy sigh I stashed the binoculars in my belt and once again grasped the now-familiar edge of the boomerang. _Okay, Link_. I took a step forward, toward the bridge, and had almost made up my mind about what I was going to do, when hoof beats cluttered the silence and Midna sprang from my shadow once again.

"Epona!" she called happily. "At least someone can do something correctly." I turned around, ready to defend myself, when a familiar neighing made my gaze snap away from the imp.

"Arden!" He trotted forward immediately and smiled that equestrian smile of his, and laid his head over my shoulder. "Good to see you too, buddy. Where've you been, hmm?" The horse tossed his mane in my face; I choked on the hair and waved it away.

"She found him near the entrance to Faron."

I turned warily to face the indifferent expression contorting Midna's face. Where had that smile fled to? Was she only happy when I was faced with a life-and-death situation? _Maybe she really is that sadistic_. I found myself patting Arden reflexively. "Oh, yeah?"

"Wandering around like a lost- puppy." Her words had hitched. There it was again. I watched her carefully, wondering if I dared to chance it now... Wondering if I dared to ask her. _He would've_.

"What happened to Link?" Arden's strong presence reassured me despite the sudden wrath and anguish flooding the immediate area. Midna seemed to grow in size until she towered over me, her gaze frightening, her demeanour wild and seemingly out of her control.

"Don't you dare!" she shrieked shrilly. "You know nothing! _NOTHING!_" And then she vanished into Epona's shadow, and the horse moved ahead, _glaring_ at me again, but at the same time leading me toward the bridge.

What did the damn animal expect me to do? Fight those guards on horseback? I'd never properly fought anything, let alone mounted on a horse. Epona tossed her head as if beckoning me forward impatiently, and Arden, traitor that he was, followed the siren call of a female. Defeated, I almost aimed the boomerang, but after a split second's thought, I decided to draw my bow instead. And almost instantly, resolve flooded through me and I straightened my gauntlets, readied an arrow, and reined in my horse.

The arrow flew soundlessly, gracefully, precisely into each of the seven sentries' left shoulders, because each of them held their spears in their right hands. It was over in a heartbeat; the soldiers groaned, clutching their wounds and making half-hearted attempts to catch me as I thundered past on horseback. I was suddenly glad I'd only had an apple for breakfast.

x

"There's a switch or lever somewhere," she explained, her voice faraway and nearly overpowered by the harsh grating of the wooden slats. I watched her poke and prod at the massive machine, though I managed to keep a fair amount of distance between us – she did, after all, harbour no qualms when it came to killing me. I'd chosen a spot on the far island, leaning up against a crooked post of a dilapidated wooden bridge. Midna, on the other hand, darted around a hulking mass of broken machinery that over the years had become half-submerged in the lake on a drowning sandbar. My bow was nocked just in case the Zoras noticed my reappearance, what with yet another company patrolling the banks closest to the Lakebed Temple's entrance. Probably as a precaution in case I attempted to assassinate the king, too. Hah. I wished I could give myself that much credit. _Great Din._

She grunted loudly and shifted the entire thing, my eyes tracing her movements with disinterest. If she managed to fix the 'cannon,' I'd end up getting shot across this huge gorge into the desert. If she gave up on it and came to her senses, we'd have to traverse the winding paths of the underground – and then I'd be left to hope fervently that Midna did indeed know where she was going, a hope that didn't have much credence to it after her performance under the lake. I wanted to ask her more about the temple itself and its purpose, but with the way her head snapped toward me suddenly, I realised it was an extremely bad time for idle curiosity. Two seconds later, she hollered, "Are you actually keeping watch, or just sitting there twiddling your thumbs?"

"It's more like wriggling my fingers, but close enough," I quipped at her. She fixed a cool stare on me, but I just smirked it off. I'd discovered that she disliked it when I shrugged off her attacks. When she lifted the horses onto a less-conspicuous plateau near the cave mouth, her diatribe had been a relentless barrage of vicious comments, each of them addressing varying degrees of my uselessness. She'd criticised my intelligence and my general inability to do anything correctly, and she'd told me repeatedly that I would never measure up to a man I'd never met. For some unfathomable reason Midna even resented me just because I wore a hat similar to Link's; it apparently smelled like him or something. Carried his aura. Channelled it. I didn't want to know. She'd seemed like a decent companion throughout the escape attempt – brusque nature aside – but as soon as the danger had vanished, her goodwill had fled with it. I didn't understand and it made me uneasy, somehow hoping and waiting for an opportunity to gain her confidence. The feeling disgusted me. _I doubt she'd like you even if you saved Link single-handedly from whatever gruesome_-

"I said, it's _broken_."

"Sorry?" Blinking, I glanced instinctively at the ground, checking for where she usually mingled so that her antlers deformed my own innocent shadow, but that only garnered an incensed glare from her. "I was thinking."

"Yes, I can see that. Oaf that you are, it takes your whole damn brain to focus on a single-"

I stood with an abrupt fluid motion and started up the hill, deadpanning blankly, "You do realise you're grating on my last nerves, right?" Her heavy scowl found irritated equality in mine. "I don't know how Link put up with you if this is how you treated him. All this nagging and whining – and you tell _me_ to suck it up."

"You've got some nerve talking about-"

"About Link?" I snapped at her. She looked taken aback, but I didn't back down. _So much for the passive resistance._ "I can talk about him if I want to; same way I can talk about the princess or my parents or – I don't know – the _goddesses _themselves. I can talk about whatever I want- and you know what, I don't care if you want to kill me for it." I felt the fury rushing into my face, heating my cheeks, and lighting my gaze with blazing passion. Somewhere at the back of my mind I knew a part of me panicked at the words. "Go ahead, Midna. Take your best goddesses-damned shot at me, and if I die, I die. I'm sick and tired of all this shit you throw at me; I never asked for this. I'm not gallivanting around and proclaiming myself an effing hero – hell, I'd never even _think _of doing that. And yet," I continued loudly, eyes fixed with a solid intensity on the roiling shadow at my feet, "and yet that's how you treat me, like I _want _to take Link's place or something stupid like that. _Nay-_ru, but why can't you just get to know me before passing judgment like that? What the bloody _hell_."

Then she punched me. Hard. With her ponytail. Right across the face where the Zora had landed one. I stumbled backwards, nearly toppling into the water. "What the bloody hell, yourself!" she screeched, not missing a beat. "Stop acting self-righteous; you're no class-act. You know _nothing_. There was a whole other world before you came along, boy, and it won't change just because-"

"I'm not asking it to change! I'm asking _you _to stop acting like such a stuck-up sadistic bitch! Farore, Nayru, and _DIN!_"

I couldn't ever remember pleading with anyone like this. We stood locked in a staring contest, mine a look of utter desperation, hers one of scrutinizing distrust and incredulity. My heart was sinking in my chest; why the hell had I said that? It could very well get me killed – but all I'd wanted was some semblance of trust, or for the comments to stop. I had no desire to be made out as Link's equal. I didn't want this adventure. But I had to know if I could fall back on her.

Midna just looked at me. Then she rose slowly from my shadow and started up the hill, over the short footbridge, up to the place where the horses stood grazing. I watched her go with a blank stare, one hand loosely grasping my bow and the other lightly guarding my bruised face. _I told you that was a mistake!_ Knowing this, I chased after her anyway at a subdued pace. If we had been anywhere else, I would have called Arden and ridden off into some other nightmare, but with the threat of another prison term without the possibility of parole...

She looked surprised when I climbed the ladder and walked toward her calmly. "Are you finished with your tantrum?" asked the imp, though her hostile vehemence had mysteriously vanished.

I stooped to refill a wineskin in the tiny pool, then slowly, methodically, went about capturing the fairy that had wriggled her way out of a nearby cluster of reeds. "Sure, Midna."


	9. im the enforcer

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: I'm the Enforcer by Field.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Day three, as far as I could tell, and we were still submerged in the dense darkness of solid earth foundations. We had a lantern to light the path, but when that ran out of oil and those awful little jelly slugs – Chus, or whatever she called them – stopped clobbering me over the head, I was reduced to groping my way through the tunnels with Midna acting as guide. Oh, sure, it was reassuring that at least _one_ of us could see in the dark; but when that one turned out to be the murderous shadow-being, it developed into a bit of a problem.

"Where did you say we were going again?" I asked wearily. Midna had stopped, staring confusedly at the bricked-up wall; it was the only possible exit out of the current section she had led us to.

"Arbiter's Grounds," she replied absently. Her hands had begun feeling the rough stone, as if expecting to find purchase somewhere along the face. I just watched quietly, feeling utterly defeated. Arden had stayed with Epona, so I was without allies. If she killed me down here, I'd die alone. _Yippee_. She started pounding on the wall with her fist. "This should be open. I don't know who would've done this, unless Redeads were somehow escaping the Temple, tramping all the way through the desert, and then emerging through here into Lanayru." Midna cast a confident look of superiority at me, adding, "But that's highly unlikely."

I'd blanched at the mention of Redeads. "Those things you mentioned aren't- named literally? They aren't zombies, right? 'Cause I don't want to deal with that. I've already been attacked by Zoras like, twice, and I don't think I can handle-"

"You weren't attacked _twice_," she interrupted, giggling. "They were actually going to absolve you. Drop all charges. Let you go. Something about your mother helping Ralis." That utterly blank look had invaded my face again. _You have got to be kidding me._ "But I needed you-" Her voice was a soft purr with a steely edge. "-to help me. Link needs you to help me." Flashing dangerously, her eye had taken on a sudden mad gleam, and I backed away, trying to hold my anger at bay.

_She_ had done this to me. _She _had me almost killed by some awful little Helmasaurs, when I could've just walked out the front door and forgotten all of this mess. I could have been free. I stared at her disbelievingly. How could I have completely disregarded her looks of caution? How had I just taken her word, even after Ralis saw me? I felt like screaming and throwing things. When I actually followed through with the thought, Midna had the gall to look startled.

"What are you doing? Link!"

But I'd already hefted a nearby crate, already choked on the dust as I balanced it over my shoulder, already tossed it with all the force I could muster at the stone wall – where _she_had been seconds ago. The box exploded. That was when I realised it hadn't been a crate, but a dusty chest that must have had the same function as those abandoned pots. And after realizing it must have contained some sort of explosives, I looked up to see that I had blown a hole in the wall.

Midna floated into the cavity, the previous situation having apparently slipped her mind. Then her voice drifted through the smoky air, "It smells like sand."

"Smells like manipulation to me," I muttered sullenly. She didn't even bother looking at me. Two could play at that game. I felt her hand on my shoulder, trying to push me forward into the new opening, but I dug my feet into the grit, refusing to move. "No. No!" Midna turned her crimson gaze on me, daring to look annoyed and unimpressed. "I'm not going any farther! You... I could've been free! I could've walked out of there and... and actually gone home or something. I would have been free of all this, you wouldn't be dragging me all over the place, I wouldn't be killing things or any of that shit, and I wouldn't be chasing phantoms! I wouldn't be on this goddesses-damned quest to begin with! Why-?"

"He's not a phantom."

"Midna, please." I laid my own hand over hers, squeezing it. "I want to know what I'm doing here. You at least owe me a little honesty. You and I both know I'm useless to you. Din, but I could've gone home and had a normal-"

She scoffed at me. "Normal. No one with your name will ever be normal." She'd almost twisted her way out of my grasp by then, but I held on determinedly.

"I want the truth. My uncle told me he saw Link die in Kakariko almost twenty years ago."

Laughing, she turned that eye on me again, its depths lit with grief and infinite fury. "He saw _me_ pretend to die in Kakariko nearly twenty years ago. That's what he saw. Link is alive; I can feel it." Something pulsated with a soft glow, and suddenly she'd raised her other hand for me to see – there, etched onto the back, was a brilliant Triforce. Her whisper carried in the gloom: "Zelda is with me. This is hers. Link is alive, but I need your help to rescue him. The Master Sword remains in his possession, and while it does, time will pass more slowly for him. We must return to the Palace of Twilight."

I expected to be shocked into silence; I really, really honestly thought I would be. Instead, I found myself scrambling away in fear. _You've been insulting the effing princess this entire time? You freaking idiot!_ "Oh shit – I mean, uh. Shit. Zelda? _Princess _Zelda? Oh goddesses-"

"Shut up," Midna hissed at me. "Stop it." She fell silent for a moment, then grinned dangerously. "She thinks you're funny." _There it is. You're still _funny_, Link. How endearing. _"And she understands." _That's different._

Different, but it didn't change the fact that she was once again evading my questions. Why was Zelda piggy-backing with Midna of all people? Why did she fake Link's death? What was this Master Sword and how could it slow time? What the hell was the Palace of Twilight? I had a right to know, didn't I? I _knew_ I did, and I was fairly certain that she knew it as well. She had been the one to drag me out of there, after all – and under threat of death, so I had to be worth _something_. What a pleasant female specimen. _The rest of the population had better not resemble this shadow-fiend, or I might die lonely after all._ Looking as directly at her as I could, I announced, "Princess, just so you know, nothing that can be construed as offensive or crude is directed at you. It's all on Midna." The imp just rolled her eyes and I continued: "But what's the whole story? I thought he was some amazing hero, that he could fight his way out of anything-"

"Anything but his own stupidity," she snorted. "Come on, we're almost through."

I still refused to move. "Almost through – yeah, almost through everything but the story. What happened to Link?"

"Chivalry." Then she swept into the darkness, knowing that I had no choice but to trail in her wake. She was more dramatic than I could ever manage, even on a good day.

x

"This is the Gerudo Desert."

"I would've never guessed; I mean, just look at all this open sand." She rapped me on the head with a fist, and I dispensed grudgingly, "Do you have a sand fetish or something?" for lack of anything else to say.

"We're here, aren't we?" Midna looked at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and, rather annoyingly ignoring my comment. Her concession eventually resurfaced in my mind, and I nodded wisely, choosing not to acknowledge the possibility of truth behind the sand thing. _Just what I need, more emotional scarring. My psyche will be a piece of goddesses-damned leather if I get home_.

"Right. Link. Save the hero." I traced a circle against the sky with my finger and rolled my eyes.

She grinned mischievously, "And then the hero saves you."

"Sure." The whole hero business raised more questions rather than securing well-defined answers. Link had gotten himself trapped somewhere? Where did the exhaustion story fit in? And Renado, the famous Kakariko shaman? Shaking my head, I fought my way over a steep incline to survey the new playing field.

That was probably when I realised that I really, _really_ hated sand.

We'd walked into a nasty sand trap, and not even five minutes since our arrival, I had grit in every nook and cranny: my clothes, my hair, my eyes, my nose. My boots stepped clumsily and sank occasionally to the point where I had to yank them out of the shifting ground, empty the contents, and jam them back on. After a while I'd stopped glaring hatefully at the crooked footsteps I'd left behind and simply opted for moving around in my dirty socks. Midna floated along without a care in the world.

"Isn't this lovely?" she crooned at me. Pointing at the luminous moon that hung overhead, her smile looked almost beautiful. "Starlight, a gorgeous walk in the desert, no heat to speak of..."

I tied my boots together and slung them over my shoulder, sending her my best dirty scowl. "Well aren't you little Miss Sunshine-and-Daisies."

"_Twilight_-and-Daisies is more appropriate."

Sparing a sly glance as I continued with my hobbled semblance of walking, I ventured another question: "Why do you keep talking about twilight?"

Midna actually looked a little uncomfortable, but I knew she'd give in to the query. It was innocent enough, after all. During our final trek through the tunnels I had learned bits and pieces of her story; how she and Link had teamed up since the beginning, two years before he- vanished? (She still hadn't clarified that particular point.) Up until that part of their adventure, they had become decent friends and excellent comrades, each utilizing the other's skills. She kept mentioning wolves and puppies and loyal little dogs, but by then she had usually resorted to rambling or smiling softly to herself, and consequently lost my attention.

"It's the loveliest thing in the world," sighed the shadow lovingly. "I _am _Twilight_._ I'm from the Twilight Realm, a kind of reflection of Hyrule; early on in our journey, Link and I saved his home from the encroaching shadows of my homeland."

"I knew you looked strange for a reason," I mumbled, frowning. She just glared and pointed at me to keep moving.

"We'll probably run into some trouble up ahead... maybe sooner; this is a bit of a stronghold, and I'm not quite sure how much attention it's been given since we left here. And there are also little critters that bury into the sand, so keep your sword at the ready." Up ahead, the distant flicker of firelight cut through the darkness. Figures moved around it; I loosed the sword from its sheath unsteadily, and gripped my bow tighter, checking my quiver. My stomach flopped over.

"Any jars nearby?"

She shrugged. "Probably nearer to the actual fortress. This is the outer area where the bandits have settled. If they shoot at you, just kick some sand at the flames and steal the arrows. Why?"

I checked my leather pack to make sure: I was down to just sixteen functional arrows. While creeping around in the tunnels, I had tripped several times and ended up either pressed roughly against a rock wall, or flat on my back, resulting in several casualties when it came to my poor quiver. There were at least seven busted shafts near the bottom of the bag. "I've only got a few left."

Midna stopped suddenly to consult with her inventory, digging around thoughtfully until she extracted a gorgeous quiver remarkably similar to the design on my bow. "This is the original piece," she told me softly. "It's part of the Hero's Bow set. I left the bow itself behind in all the confusion of my departure, as well as the Ordon Sword. The shaman had understood well enough anyway. When I realised I'd forgotten them, I began hoping that they might serve our dashing second savoir well enough that he might find me."

"And I guess killing all those other Links helped narrow the field?" When she refused to reply after several minutes, I ignored any more potential awkwardness of the situation by checking the contents. "Holy Nayru, there's got to be at least a hundred arrows in here."

"Ninety-two, actually. Link likes that game in Castletown. He always keeps his supplies fully stocked, just in case he runs into anything unexpected."

"I can, uh, see that." I could feel Midna's gaze on me as I strung my bow, the same bow, I noted with wonder, that Link had used at some point. It felt so familiar in my hands; it had that feel that just made it seem like it had only ever been mine... That someone as special and legendary as Link had never tainted the humble weapon with his intoxicating aura. Goddesses, now I sounded like her. Midna was utterly obsessed with the man – then again, the same could be said for Talo, Colin, and Ilia, and maybe even Beth and Malo too. They had, after all, named their firstborn sons after the hero; if Talo ever married and had kids, I was more than positive that we'd have yet another Link on our hands.

My thoughts drifted back to the upcoming ordeal, and I flicked my gaze at the fire that was quickly edging into my range. _Maybe he was one of those excellent sharpshooters, like in the army. _A sudden idea hit me and I grappled with the tools secured to my belt. "Any chance I can use these binocular things with my bow?" I asked, excited by the possibilities.

Midna's fang glinted evilly in the dark. "Oh yes. I'd challenge you to see how many you can hit without the Hawkeye, but I'd rather not have to revive you if you get run down by a Bullbo. But keep your sword handy at all times. There's no telling when those nasty little Moldorms will hop out of the sand. He used the clawshot to force them above ground, then hacked at them with his sword. An arrow won't be quick enough; it'll just get buried in the sand."

_Great. So now you have sandworms after you. They're probably watching you right now, waiting for you to lower your bow before springing out of the_-

"WHAT THE HELL!" I screamed suddenly, dodging a clicking, squirming, whirring _something_ that nearly bit my face off. _You just _had _to think of it, didn't you? You and your effing scenarios. Take out your goddesses-damned sword!_ Sword out. Okay. _You can do this_, I heard a voice whisper faintly. I'd never actually used the damn thing before, so I just grabbed it awkwardly with my free hand. It wasn't exactly heavy, which definitely detracted from the strange feel of holding a real sword and not just a sharpened stick.

The thing came at me again, cutting through the sand as if it were water. Then it leapt, screeching that awful grinding howl, and I slashed wildly at it. Something that might be considered a head slid cleanly from the body, and within another second it had burnt to a crisp, exploded neatly, and the night went back to being peaceful and balmy.

"See," cooed Midna's voice near my ear, "you're getting used to it already. Do you still believe you're a lover?"

I looked at where the sandworm had been moments before, where the faint smoke had begun to dissipate. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. This is self-defence."

"You'll see," she said with impossible sadness. Then she turned away, but I could still see the viscous, sunset-collared tears that glowed with a life of their own as they rolled down her velvet cheeks. But when she smiled at me, I knew for the first time since we'd encountered each other that maybe I'd finally managed to win her over. Except, if I'd listened closely to her murmuring instead of turning my back and tramping on, I'd have heard her gasp of horror and the whispered, "Oh no."


	10. hello, hello

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Hello, Hello by Sopwith Camel.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Usually I harboured quite a lot of confidence in my shooting ability. This, predictably, led to cockiness, and, subsequently, to my current predicament. Midna was not impressed in the least.

"Don't you ever look at where you're aiming?" she spat at me. "If you're not careful you'll end up skewered like that Bullbo over there."

"Actually no," I ground out, "I just liked to pull the string and see where they land."

I balanced the bow carefully and fired two arrows at once, taking out two more trolls. If the goddesses-damned things didn't howl like that when they were hit, it would make my life so much easier. But apparently nothing in this world liked the idea of an easy life for me, all thanks to my darling name. Midna nudged my shoulder insistently, shoving something black and shiny at my face that only succeeded in making me break out into a cold sweat.

"Transform, you idiot! You've got their attention now, so just make a dash for it- It's not like you don't know where the entrance is-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I hissed at her. Three trolls fell this time; thankfully one of them kept his mouth decidedly shut, though it was more of a courtesy now than anything else. At this point in the assault, more noise would just be drops in the proverbial bucket of trouble. Shaking my head, I twisted out of her grasp. "Don't tell me you've gone crazy right when I need you." I rushed around another bend in the complex, quickly assessing the scene as I rounded the protruding wall. They'd cornered me in a dark alley. _How appropriate_. Hurriedly I ducked into a doorway, looking around desperately for the archway that was supposed to mark the entrance to the Grounds.

From a distance, the place looked like a giant sandstone fortress, preceded by a makeshift camp of rotting wood and torn canvas. I quickly found out that the deserted appearance was a complete lie. However, before initiating the attack, I did get to examine the high turrets that rose above the main room, arranged in what might be a wide circle. I had little doubt that that was where I needed to go – why else make such a grand room if it isn't the focus of the place? The Arbiter's Grounds was a temple, after all. Or at least, it functioned as a temple, since it contained priceless artefacts and a culturally significant centre for worship. When I'd used the Hawkeye, I was able to pick out the head of a giant woman. I wouldn't be surprised if I found incense burners and cremation urns inside, or an altar.

Back in the present, I couldn't yet see the archway; instead, I found heaps of wood blocking what looked like a wide thoroughfare. And what better way to celebrate my arrival than by crashing through cords of dried wood with a big, smelly pig? I wheeled around and skidded into a tiny stable, guiding a Bullbo down the main aisle to the doorway. I'd stolen several of these since launching the attack on the bandits, though quite honestly I didn't think I'd ever get used to riding one of them, mostly because of the stench. The rough, hairy hide reeked something terrible, like manure that's been left to bake in the sun, and then used to burn a partly decomposed corpse. Oh, and sand. It smelled like sand. While I was busy holding my breath, Midna snapped something mean and critical at me, but by this time, anything that she said glanced right off my intense level of concentration.

_Brilliant. All you've got to do is smash into some wood and you're home free. Just hope the trolls aren't stupid enough to follow you inside._ That made it sound so effing easy. With an apprehensive glance I surveyed the narrow path, my boots poised to dig deep into the sides of my mount. And in a split second, something had torn me out of the saddle and sent me flying into the side of the barn.

"GET UP!" Someone shrieked at me. Through the haze that clouded my mind I barely made out a hulking shape and its steady approach. _Okay. So this is good. More clobbering_. I scrambled unsteadily onto my knees and groped around for the sword hilt; my fingers had just closed over the slippery metal when something hard and sharp connected with my side.

"LINK!"

"Leave me alone," I groaned piteously. Something was towering over me, something that looked suspiciously like a mutant troll... What had she called them? Goddesses, I couldn't think. It swung a heavy axe at my head and, screaming, "Damn it!" I rolled out of the way, a hand pressing against something numb and bloody. Midna sparkled strangely in the dark, trying to draw the troll's attention as I fumbled with the sword. The world kept shifting annoyingly beneath my curiously heavy feet, and my lunge ended up being several feet too far to the left.

"Get up, Link! _Link!_"

Farore, Nayru, and _Din_, but why the hell was it so goddesses-damned dark? The troll turned toward me, its bright eyes shining in the eerie gloom of the stable. I spread my feet into a more balanced stance and checked for any openings in the troll's defence: One, he was effing HUGE, so he would have difficulty reacting to an attack from behind; Two, he was effing stupid, so a projectile would provide a decent distraction; Three, if I didn't move now, I'd lose consciousness before we ever made it to the goddesses-damned temple. _What the _hell_. Where is that break I requested? What are we even going to do inside the temple? Can I take a nap?_

Rolling clumsily behind the troll, I brought up my sword and jammed it into the base of his skull where the armour gave way to bare skin. He grunted beneath me, and I hung there awkwardly, hoping my hands wouldn't slip. How the blade didn't puncture his spine was beyond me, but the problems it caused were starting to rear their ugly heads – one of them being that of the troll. He kept staggering around in circles trying to find me, the wicked little thing causing him a load of pain. _It's mutual, buddy; trust me. _I certainly couldn't un-wedge the sword from my current position, so I scrambled up onto the blade, balanced there, and drew my bow.

_This is either the most brilliant thing you've ever thought of, or the absolute stupidest. And I'm fairly certain it's the latter of the two._ With the arrow nocked and held in place with one hand, my feet braced against the giant's back and placed cumbersomely on the flat of the blade, I managed to peel off the troll's helmet with my free hand. Midna screamed something at me, the world tilted crazily, and I loosed the arrow at the troll's unprotected skull, right into his ear.

Then he shrieked bloody murder and spun around even faster. I felt heavy and unusually tired and completely irritated by this idiot troll; my hands gripped the sword and yanked it out bit by gory bit, my ears completely deaf to his awful cries by now. He suddenly toppled into something, and distantly I could hear the pig squealing in terror, before the troll slipped heavily to the ground. Gravity and momentum from the fall knocked me off balance and I slammed into the sword's hilt, accidentally driving it deeper into the troll's nape; several things crunched unpleasantly, but the pain was so thickly layered in my head that I couldn't tell if I was the one with broken anything. It wasn't until I tried to move my hands and dislodge the sword did I realise what had happened with a jolt of pain.

As if on cue, Midna flashed into sight by my shoulder, her hands working against the blood dripping from a jagged slash. "Oh, Link. We need to get you inside."

_No shit, Midna_. "Sure," I said through gritted teeth. "Sure, Midna, that's an effing lovely idea, except for that fact that my sword is jammed into this thing's skull, and my hands are trapped on the wrong side of the hand guard."

All she managed was a tiny 'oh' of surprise. _Oh_. Of all the things she could've said – a solution, consolation, _anything_ – the only thing she could effing manage was, _oh?_ _What the bloody hell,_ I wanted to scream in frustration and mounting agony. _Will you freaking do something before I topple over and bleed out?_ Her ponytail whipped out then and cocooned my hands, gently lending me the strength I'd never had. After several long moments she'd managed to free both the weapon and my extremities, and with my crippled hands cradled against my heaving chest, I staggered away dizzily, completely ignoring the sword that clattered noisily to the ground.

"Link, we have to get inside."

"Midna, I think my hand's broken."

She stared uncertainly at me; I knew my face had to shining in the grey light, shining with the pallor that had set in from blood loss. "There might be a fairy somewhere near the entrance," she said quietly, gingerly poking me to my feet again and sheathing the sword for me. I felt her straighten the bow that was slung over my shoulder. "At least you didn't break both."

I glared at her through unfocused eyes. "You're damn lucky I'm ambidextrous," I told her, an empty threat lacing the words. She looked at me strangely, but I ignored her. My right hand hung crumpled and bent at an awkward angle; it hurt to even look at it, and that was saying something: I could barely register any sensations due to the immense pain in my head and side.

The Bullbo stood shivering near the entrance to the barn, and despite its excessive movement I managed to pull myself into the saddle once again. Turning it towards the blocked alley, I spurred the animal without thinking of grasping the saddle, and consequently groaned spectacularly when it threw me clear of the saddle. Not that it really mattered whether or not I rode it, since it kept going, kept smashing through the wood and creating a narrow path. Behind us, screeches echoed as the trolls discovered their dying leader.

I watched dazedly as the entrance loomed closer and closer. My feet weighed heavily with each step – so heavily that Midna began supporting my weight, almost dragging me along when my head started to loll. The stone façade of the enormous building was made of golden sandstone that took on a warm glow in the firelight, but nothing could make it look more welcoming than the thick clumps of grass near the entrance. Midna floated ahead and broke several with blasts from her palm; the fairy noticed me immediately and darted in my direction. She managed to heal the cut in my side and fix most of my hand before her magic could do no more, and we were left to skulk around in the courtyard, hunting around for stray hearts. I ended up with a total of three, in varying conditions, after smashing open all the random jars and cutting roughly into the near-dead grass.

"Well, that was interesting," I muttered, warily eying the entrance to the Grounds. Midna had taken to hovering around my head, her movements erratic and forceful.

"Chatty, aren't you?" was all she said, and it sounded like an accusation. I turned to stare at her, but she threw up her hands, ushering me into the temple. "You've got half of Hyrule thinking you're a stupid mute, and here you are, chatting it up where no one can hear. I'll never understand you."

_She's mistaken you._ That had to be the only logical reason. I headed inside, sword drawn again, feeling decidedly better than moments ago. _Probably because you aren't bleeding all over the goddesses-damned place anymore. That'd be a good reason._ Yes. Absolutely. Just dandy. Because once I got to the end of the short stone passageway, the swirling sandpit of doom sure did an awesome job of reversing the feeling.

And there were little sandworms leaping in and out of the shifting floor, both of them eying me evilly – and farther along, if I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head a bit, it looked like there were a couple skeletons grinning at me from the other side of the room. "Well aren't I lucky. There're even cherries to top it off this time." I turned to Midna meaningfully, annoyed, palm out, my thoughts turning back to the essential question: _why the _hell _aren't you home herding goats?_ "Clawshot, if you don't mind." Her eye had that look again, but she handed me the weapon regardless.

I shot them both, and each time I did I winced a little when the metal anchor made contact with flesh. A month ago, I would've never dreamt of doing this. A month ago I was helping Renado whittle his own toy sword out of a tree branch that had fallen near the house. Now, I was using a real sword and killing things. _Killing_ them. The worst part was that I didn't exactly feel all that badly afterwards. I didn't feel shaky and lost and utterly violated anymore when things withered and exploded. Instead there was satisfaction and relief, and the two combined terrified me; I didn't want to be this... this mindless killer – not even it if came with the territory of being a candidate for 'hero,' which had, in recent moments, begun to pique my interest. I knew I wanted to believe that I didn't want that for myself, since just the thought of Link, wherever he was, awaiting rescue from someone like _me_,and Midna… Well, that was enough to keep my thoughts far from the idea. I just wanted this adventure to end.

The Moldorms were a breeze to take care of after the blundering Bulbin in the stable. I very happily watched the smoke fade into the encroaching darkness before squinting into the gloom for a way across. At one time, this must have been the entrance. However, the floor had given way to quicksand, and what remained of the broken tiles made continuing to the door on the other side virtually impossible. Since I had the clawshot, I simply aimed for the first thing that caught my eye as a potential target: a long burnt-out netted sconce set into the wall to my left. With clammy hands clenched I jumped my way across the remaining tile islands until I reached an uncomfortably wide stretch of lethal sand.

"I told you not to spend this much time away," Midna said suddenly. I glanced at her disinterestedly, deciding to roll over the sand and hope it dispersed enough of my weight, and that I moved fast enough, to avoid getting sucked under. After surviving two ambushes, I didn't really feel like drowning in sand, of all things. Too many things had tried to kill me in the past week for me to give up now. I set my jaw, my gaze tracing the broken gates; they were indeed open and rusted, and to my right, I could make out a chain and its handle bolted into place in the sandstone. _That had better be Link's doing, or you'll have a party on your hands._

"I told you to come back, didn't I?" She floated right in front of me, trying to prevent me from crossing the room and entering through the next door. I opened it regardless, though her preventative efforts were growing more intense. She kept bumping into me, trying to put a hand to my forehead or waving her fingers in front of my face. Her antics were completely unnecessary and potentially dangerous if she kept this up. I didn't know how to respond, but ignoring them could get me killed.

The next room was completely dark. Holding out a hand, I prompted her to relinquish a light source of some kind, namely that lantern; there was no way Link could've made it through his previous challenges without a spare one, or a candle at the very least. But she simply thrust the same sturdy little hand-held lantern at me, but from the force behind her movement I could tell she was fuming over something. I had a small bottle of oil in my pocket from a room in the lobby. "Can you quit it with the attitude? I'm trying to help-"

"Shut. Up," Midna snarled.

"Okay, okay. Farore." Glancing at her shining eye, I lit the lantern and emptied the last of the oil into the tiny compartment before stowing the bottle in my belt. If she hadn't stolen my pack from me, I would've put it in there, in a safer pocket. But Midna enjoyed being a tyrant, so I dutifully kept my mouth shut, readying my sword and shield as chattering noises carried through the stale air. I couldn't see that far ahead, so I raised the lantern a little higher; several tiles were missing from the floor, swirling sand filling the spaces instead, just like in the foyer. From the disconcerting feeling flooding my stomach, I inferred that the room was much larger than my meagre light could show. Carefully I picked my way across the sand until the chattering gave way to pinpricks of light scattered around me, moving around in eerily shining pairs.

By the time I'd approached a pair of braziers near a caged door, a squadron of dwarf skeletons emerged from the gloom with their spears raised threateningly. I slashed through them quickly, twisting a little so they wouldn't skewer me on their weapons. The room was so damn dark I could barely see anything but the oncoming wave – and sure, they died easily enough, but then four more sprang up out of nowhere. "Great Din," I swore loudly, lunging for the brazier. I'd been sandwiched in between the two by the advancing hordes, and now I was struggling to light both the settings before I got jabbed to death by toy spears. _The only 'toy' quality about them is their size._

The second brazier finally caught, the bars rattled back into the ceiling, and I kicked and slashed until I had a clear chance to wrench open the door before more of those little things came back. Why the hell the door reacted to the lights was beyond me, but when it finally rumbled open, I dove through it and slammed it down shut. A slight crunching sound on the other side brought a satisfied smirk to my face. _Goddesses-damned skeletons._

Midna giggled. I spun around, irritated. "You find that effing _funny?_" Inwardly I dared her to reply; she merely suppressed another laugh.

This room was a little brighter than the last, probably thanks to some missing bricks in the ceiling and invading moonlight. At the far end stood an open gate made of gold and bronze and preceded by a wide staircase. I honestly considered striding bravely onto the silver-tinted stairs, but something held me back, lingering on the broken flagstones, as the sand had eaten away most of the floor in this room, too. Instead I backed away from the steps, but rather than clearing space to think, Midna took it as an invitation to dart even closer, her face nearly pressed against mine.

"You can't leave now; it's been too long," raved the imp, her voice bordering on hysterical with every word. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong with you?"

_Well this is just brilliant_. "Midna," I sighed wearily, pushing past her toward the stairs. She'd get over it eventually. "I'm not who you think I am. If you think hard enough about it, you'll realise just who I am again, and we can go along on our merry way, complete with nasty little beasties and-"

Staggering sideways from the force of her blow, I scowled, clutching my face in one hand, and the sword tighter in the other. "What the hell was that for? You can't just go around punching me, especially when you want my- _ugh_!" Something heavy knocked me askew, and I was sent skittering over the grit-covered sandstone once again. The sword slipped out of my grasp and skidded to a halt in what looked like quicksand. I swore loudly and lunged for it, trying my best to keep my balance despite a once-again unsteady world, but Midna must have taken the movement as a threat, because she dove for the weapon and brandished it at me. Gripped with a steadily-increasing constant rate of fear, I scrambled backwards on all fours like a crab, my eyes fixed on the tip of the blade that kept edging closer and closer to my chest.

"How dare you!"

Midna's voice had assumed the same deadly quality I'd noticed back in the Field, during our first encounter: quiet, the threat lurking and waiting for the right moment to strike. Her grip changed subtly on the hilt and I made to dodge, to flip out of the way – but with the same intensity as a lightning bolt, I felt her drive the blade home into my left shoulder, pinning me against the flagstones. This arrangement apparently dissatisfied her, though for the life of me I couldn't see why. I was freaking pinned to the freaking floor by a freaking sword. I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. But regardless, she grasped me in her ponytail, wrenching me from the floor, and, in the split second she held me to her face, I saw just how wild her eye was, and struggled madly to get free. "I will _destroy _you, Zant!" she hissed at me. And then she threw me forcefully across the room, my head connected with the wall with a sharp crack, and she crept closer, crying again. Something burned in my shoulder.

"Link. Oh, Link, come back to me."

_Sure, come back to you. Is there another wall you'd like to introduce me to? Or maybe you'd like to practice extreme acupuncture?_

Everything had gone fuzzy and distant, just as it had when she'd pulled me underwater back at Hylia. I felt her hand sweeping over my face, tracing the bones, and dabbing her fingers in the warm blood. Her absence didn't register until I called out feebly, and received nothing in response.


	11. is it any wonder?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Is It Any Wonder? by Keane.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

_'…Link…_. _Link, wake up_….'

I could vaguely feel the scratchy sand against my skin, and the stale, dusty air pumping haltingly in and out of my lungs. But I'd lost all feeling everywhere else, and as far as I was concerned, I might as well be dead; hell, I could even see a faint white light at the back of my mind, and all I could think was not to go through any tunnels. Any sounds I tried making came out muffled and unintelligible, but the only sounds I'd want to make wouldn't be heard anyway, since I'd decided that she'd left me for dead. Besides, at any rate, death would've been what I would have asked of her. _Except that she's gone_. Gone. The thought chilled me. It was deathly quiet here, and with nothing else to do but sit and wait for the final loss of consciousness, I thought. Which, as I mentioned before, I rarely ever did with any amount of seriousness. _But I guess when you're impaled by a sword and your skull's probably cracked in two, you can't really help but understand that this is the last time you'll get to do anything._

Renado came to mind first, and the look on his face when I'd told him to get under the bed. I'd wanted to tell him so many things then: that I didn't hate him or anything, that I wanted to come home and fix things, that I wanted to help him finish that sword. _Actually. Maybe a bow. No swords. _I needed to salvage the family name that we shared before Desn doomed him too, just on account of association.

And then there was Talo, who I'd completely and utterly let down. What would he say now? What would he do? _I'm lying here dying, Talo, in some dusty crypt in a faraway place I would've never seen in my life, if it hadn't been for... For you? For fate? For Link's disappearance?_

I cracked open my eyes a little, but I still couldn't see properly: just blurry grey light, dense and uninviting. More than I wanted to go home, I wanted to know the whole story; why I had been dragged into this, and for what I was dying. Maybe Link had been dead all along, and Midna had simply driven herself into an extreme state of denial. Sure, I had my doubts, but I wouldn't really mind if he was dead after all; it wasn't as if I'd known him personally or anything. _Then why do you feel like you've been gypped? Or is that your propensity for drama speaking?_ I laughed inwardly at the ridiculousness of the situation, and I wished I could say it aloud, just to confirm the irony. _Is this dramatic enough for you, Link? Is this how you wanted to die all along, steeped in murder and mystery and madness? Steeped in _drama_?_ Shaking my head in disgust, I closed my eyes and settled against the wall, decidedly ignoring the pain with a detached manner, as if it were happening to someone else.

Drifting… Incomplete trains of thought still floated in and out of my shortening attention span. Somewhere nearby I thought maybe there was something moving, something speaking. Maybe she'd come back to finish the job. But I couldn't tell through the haze, and I couldn't tell if I was just hallucinating. Did people hallucinate before they died? Did Midna give me a poisonous apple? My mind skipped around a bit and distantly I remembered my mother telling me a story, about some beautiful princess and a poisoned fruit, and how she'd eaten it and fallen asleep until her prince found her. I remembered asking my mother if the prince had special armour, since there was no way he could scale a stone tower in heavy metal. She'd laughed and said that real princes didn't wear armour.

_'…Link. Please.'_

I stiffened as reality gently seeped back into my awareness. Was someone talking to me? I wanted desperately to open my eyes and confront whoever had the nerve to interrupt my dying, since I was oh-so-intent on- Wait. Something really _was_ moving; I could feel the vibrations through my belt. Renado's turtle had been safely tucked in its little enclosure, so it couldn't be Sheldon that was trapped in any of the compartments. I twisted uncomfortably and jammed a hand into a pouch until I could feel the warm glass of a shivering bottle. _Oh thank Din! A fairy!_ Hands shaking again, I uncorked the bottle and gently shook out the twinkling ball of light. She set to work immediately with her deft magic, instantly clearing the haze and throbbing in my head. The sword wound was a bit more difficult, though she waited patiently as I struggled one-handedly to remove the blade. Its hilt was slicked with blood and sweat, and shimmering drops of pearly orange that I recognised with distaste.

"Thanks, Midna. Nice calling card." It didn't exactly click – all the tears, the pleading, the sudden snap of her attitude. But at this point I didn't care if it made sense or not; she'd tried to kill me again, and this time she'd almost succeeded. I stared hard at the ceiling, almost hatefully, as the jittery tingles from the fairy's magic faded away. My shoulder ached dully, and one glance told me that it would be infected soon if I didn't find more healing aids. That idea was all good and fine, except for the facts that: One, I had actually been abandoned, and two, I had no idea what we were going to do here before all of this happened. Was I supposed to like, worship the goddesses or something? And if so, why were there monsters crawling all over the place… unless they were just wild animals? I stared blankly at the dim room, rubbing my arm absently until I recognised the persistent glow of that white ball of something, hovering at the edges of my vision. Despite blinking rapidly, I couldn't force it away – and then, it spoke.

'_She will return. Be careful, Link._'

"Hello?" I called out uncertainly, but nothing answered, and the white glow seemed suddenly, eerily absent. "Midna?" The darkness swallowed the pitiful disturbance made by my raspy voice, leaving me feeling spectacularly alone in an exceedingly creepy place. Swallowing thickly, I stumbled around a bit before regaining my bearings and assessing the situation: Midna had all of Link's weapons aside from the bow and quiver, the sword, a lantern, and a cheap wooden shield she'd lent me as an afterthought, before I'd rushed the bandits. I also had the clawshot, though for all I knew it could be submerged in quicksand by now. Wonderful. Could my life get any better? Although, considering the fact that I was about to blindly wander through a temple without a map or guide (unless the strange disembodied voice counted), the answer hung in the balance.

I glanced around, unimpressed, squinting into the gloom; my eyes had already begun adjusting to the magical light cast by four braziers along the staircase, but it wasn't enough to illuminate the far reaches of the room. She'd left me near a sunken staircase and an exposed chain, and on the far side of the room I could make out an alcove of some sort. If I turned right, I could see another alcove, and what looked like a wooden chest half-buried under fallen stone. But first things first: _Gotta find the clawshot_.

I started towards the other side, near the door I'd entered through, uncertainly; when nothing ambushed me on the way over, I gained a bit more confidence, adjusting my grip on the sword, and peered into the shady left-hand corner. Holding the lantern aloft, I swept the space for any hint of glimmering metal, but there was just a trio of clay pots. They laid in pieces moments later while I salvaged the little heart and a grimy handful of rupees. _Glad to know heroism is a lucrative business… it's just a shame there's such a high mortality rate._

Midna could have taken it with her, I tentatively reflected, but the last memory I had of the bulky mechanism was of it clanking against my hip, firmly secured by the clip near its handle. The thought of the imp being spiteful and taking it on purpose chilled me anyway. Without it, I might be trapped here. I certainly couldn't hop back across the sand in the first room, or wrangle a Moldorm. I sent a nervous glance at the sandy waterfalls tumbling from the ceiling, hoping to the goddesses that it hadn't sunk beneath the encroaching quicksand; if the previous experiences of the evening were any indication, I'd need arrows, my sword, the lantern, and the clawshot to reach the exit, with all of them present and in working condition. And I had an awful feeling that my assumption wasn't that far off from the truth.

"Where are you?" I called softly. The next corner yielded several more pots, but none of them held anything interesting, aside from a dead plant and what looked like an old cheesecloth and some rotten crackers. The rupees were just depressing me; who had left them there, and why? What use would they be if I died in here, aside from maybe using them to ferry myself across the gap to the land of the dead? I shook my head violently, suddenly angry. I couldn't think like this if I wanted to get out of here. That negativity would just lead me to some darkened corner to twiddle my thumbs, while awaiting death-by-dehydration with something like boredom gnawing at my mind. Link would've gone down fighting, and by the sound of Midna's story, he was probably _still _fighting – if she hadn't been lying after all.

Working with that assumption, I found myself kind of wishing that I could still help Link. I would bitch and moan until the goats came home about the task I had been set (and subsequently accepted and lost), but that wouldn't change the warm glow of having a purpose and knowing it. Maybe it didn't matter, losing Midna's guidance. Maybe it would all be self-evident if I could just reach the other side of this place, which I'd bet money on being that weird circular arena I'd seen from the top of a desert rise. Maybe I could do this myself, and prove something and maybe earn some recognition from someone in authority, so that my brother wouldn't starve to death. Without citizenship, I was ineligible to apply for an employment permit, and therefore unable to provide any source of anything, aside from handouts from the village. I didn't want him to be _that_ kid anymore, and if this little adventure and whatever success I might find could change that, then I'd damn well try my hardest.

I scooped up the clawshot out of a puddle of sand moments later, and the find helped to bolster my confidence. Spinning around with my jaw already set, I looked towards the gate, knowing deep down in my gut that this was where I had to go, that this was it. But as I stared at the raised bars, at the dark space beyond and the crumbling steps and the broken pots I'd left behind in this room, I knew that _I_, for once in my life, thought with all my heart that I could do something, without half-assing it. And I sure as hell wouldn't let that go to waste. If Link really was alive somewhere, I would find him.

x

I spent a good half hour poking at the rusted gears set beneath the floor of the circular room beyond the gated chamber in which I'd been attacked. It looked like something, another gear, was missing from the design, and I'd decided that the gear was probably what I was looking for; as for where it might be, I could only hope that it would lie behind the next door. Or the next. ...Or the next, although I fervently hoped there weren't that many left to explore, because this was seriously getting old.

After shooting my way down a huge column and nearly getting knocked over the edge several times by floating, flaming skulls, I'd managed to unlock a door. I stood before it now, debating whether or not 'good' doors were routinely left locked with a hidden key in temples, or if I should heed the warning siren in my head and try another way.

Logically speaking, it'd be a good idea to take the intricate lock as a warning. It wasn't exactly a skull, but it did resemble one of those nasty Skulltulas and I didn't exactly fancy the notion that the room might be a nest of the vicious spiders. All the other doors I'd seen had been unlocked; but likewise, there had been plenty of open, empty chests in previous chambers, as well as busted crates and a few toppled urns and even a couple empty incense burners. The place had very obviously been sacked, so it stood to reason that a door might be locked as an extra obstacle for the person traversing the building. Now _that_ made sense, especially when I considered Link's presence here. He must have stopped after the first circular chamber, if he'd ventured past the brazier staircase at all. Indeed, that possibility made me feel empowered and cautious all at once; anything could happen here, and I had the distinct feeling that whatever it was, I wouldn't like it much. That, and it would be very much unlike the encounters of the dangerous kind like in the Lakebed Temple – unlike them, but with similar danger factors. Yippee. Surprises.

I pulled the key out of a pocket and forced it into the rusted lock, jiggling it a bit until it gave and the mechanism clicked. The door rattled open at my touch and I stepped inside with sword and lantern at the ready, totally expecting something to come bounding out of the yawning darkness and tear my face off, or something equally as unpleasant. But instead I saw just darkness; I heard faint chattering noises, and by the general feel of the room and the slight draft of dead air that circulated the place, it must have been a large room. The lantern thankfully had a decent amount of oil left in its well, so I held it high to inspect the near vicinity. There were gritty tiles, and just beyond them, encroaching darkness. I had been utterly incapable of drawing that conclusion myself – that the place was darker than Midna's sadistic little mind, and would remain so despite my demands and obvious need. I squinted a little, somewhat put off again by the revelation.

Yes, granted, I was trapped in a crypt. And yes, I was also without basic supplies and very near to dying of thirst at this point. And _yes_, my shoulder was absolutely killing me due to the ugly infection from the sword wound. (_Apparently pressing dying fairies willy-nilly into an injury will _not _magically heal it; some work is involved on your part. What a letdown._) The point still stood, sharp as ever: I wanted some action. And yes, I admitted that it was a very, _very_ stupid thing to want, especially in a place like this, and in a situation like mine, and after being nearly stabbed to death by a stark raving mad shadow. The desire could very well get me killed. Again. But because I did not happen to be an easily satisfied person, and because I had an affinity for headstrong decisions, stubbornness, and that damn longing for the dramatic, I wanted some goddesses-damned action, and I wanted it _now_.

I raised my sword a little and waved it around, but the blackness clung to the shiny blade whenever it swung outside the lantern's reach. The chattering had stopped mysteriously, instead replaced with gentle tapping, scratching sounds that made my skin crawl, and deep down forced my better judgment to beg that I recant that stupid wish. I didn't. Rather, I took a brave step forward and stared curiously at the patches of soil along the tile floor; there were four, in the shape of neat little squares all in a row. Poking at them with my sword, I did manage to realise my extreme stupidity for what I was doing.

"They're probably just a garden of some sort," I told myself quietly. The silence abated slightly, seemingly encouraging me. "I bet they just forgot to water them or something. Whoever 'they' are." I highly doubted if floating skulls or whatever else lurked here had green thumbs, so the reasoning did make sense. Generally. In a what-the-hell-are-you-thinking kind of way. I'd just finished adjusting my shield before walking headlong into the next row of soil squares, and nearly impaling myself on four huge metal spikes. The wall came screeching up out of the ground literally a hairsbreadth from my nose; I blinked, wide-eyed and stepped back onto firm sandstone tile, letting out a long, shaky breath. "What... the _hell_."

Had this place been someone's house at some point? Because if so, I dearly wanted to know whose the hell it had been. Who puts freaking spike walls in their basement? Mind reeling, I stumbled back against the wall and leant against it, panting slightly. Okay. So there _were_ obstacles. These weirdoes evidently cultivated booby traps of the highest quality. What an effing relief. _Are you happy now, Link? Are you satisfied with the Lurking Danger Factor of this room yet? 'Cause I sure as hell am more than satisfied with metal-spike garden walls and Skulltula-lock doors. What's next? Undead garden gnomes?_ I managed a faint laugh and straightened, somewhat heartened by the incredulity of the idea. If there was extra security, I had to be getting close to that missing gear, or whatever it was that I was poking around in a tomb for. _Well that's a bit of good news, I guess_.

Raising the lantern a little higher, I took a wary step toward the next row of soil patches set into the tile; this time I poked them with my sword first. When nothing exploded out of the dirt, I hurriedly skipped across to the next sandstone square and realised exactly what I had walked myself into: a stupid effing maze, with the added bonus of hidden walls. And darkness. And- _and what the hell just crawled up my tunic?_


	12. where we gonna go from here?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Where We Gonna Go from Here? by Mat Kearney.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

_OH HOLY DIN. GET IT _OFF_!_

Brilliant idea, except I couldn't see what the hell was eating me alive and crawling around in my clothes. I slapped at my tunic and heard a nasty crunch, followed by the disturbing sight of dusty something drifting harmlessly to the floor. _Oh please don't tell me there really _are _undead garden gnomes. Please. Pleasepleaseplease with a cherry on top._ I staggered sideways, still pounding on my tunic, still returning more nasty crunches and cracklings; by now I was dancing around in a ring of dried bones, as I assumed that that was what the dust was. That just led me to believe that I had freaking invisible zombies molesting me. _Well at least it isn't purely psychological_.

_Stop, drop, and roll!_ screamed a voice suddenly, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Keaton's during the time I'd accidentally caught myself on fire while lighting the stable torches. It had worked then. _Oh, the hell with it._ Slamming myself into the tile, I was suddenly unspeakably thankful for the rough floor. The crunching came en masse now, along with faint squeaks and insane chittering that immediately put me in mind of mice. So that was wonderful. I was getting gnawed to death by zombie mice? What the effing hell.

"What are you doing?"

That was when I realised my brain had imploded from the sheer amount of madness. I flipped over, swearing, still batting frenetically at my clothes, to glower disbelievingly at Midna. She hung suspended in the darkness, her eye a disembodied crimson orb, my lantern having broken in the struggle, and thus failing to illuminate her properly.

"You do know those are Shadow Vermin, right?"

"Oh shut the _hell_ up!" I shouted at her; I could literally feel the push toward, and the tottering over, the edge. "First you try to effing kill me, leave me in the goddesses-forsaken Temple, and then you _come back_ and act so freaking matter-of-fact! Who the hell do you think you are! You can't just-"

She abruptly enveloped me in some sort of strange energy field, and within a matter of seconds, all the chattering noises had ceased and whatever had been biting me had died, or otherwise been rendered useless. I didn't feel like being grateful; hell, I didn't feel like being anything but sick to my stomach. Roughly patting the dust and sand out of my clothes, I scooped up the lantern and relit it, refusing to speak to her.

"Okay," she started softly. "Okay, I deserve this." That earned her my best scathing look. But she continued anyway, and I imagined that had she been on the ground, she might have scuffed her foot against the floor. "Look, Link, I'm sorry." She dodged directly in front of me now, her eye imploring for understanding that I was loath to give. Her tone itself came out as more of a demand than anything else and I turned away, silently fuming, and continued across the maze to the next sandstone square. "I'm _sor _-ry, Link. Look at me."

Oh, I looked at her all right. I spun about-face, nearly yanking her out of the air when I wrapped my white-knuckled fists around her arms. "Oh, so you're _sorry_, huh? Sorry for what? For coming back to dispose of the body, and instead getting caught _by_ the body? You can't keep effing doing this to me, Midna. I don't care if Link took all of this shit from you, because he had to be the biggest freaking masochist in the world if that was the case. I don't want you here," I spat at her, voice crackling with fury. "You've tried to kill me twice, and each time, you've come crawling back with threats or apologies to wave in my face. And the fool that I am, I just take them. Well I'm not going to take your 'I'm sorry' shit this time. For all I know, you really will kill me next time, and then where will I be? Dying alone somewhere, in a place I've never been before? That sounds awfully familiar - too much so for my tastes. Or do I still not matter to you? Just another freaking pawn in your twisted game. Keep tossing your toys around, and sooner or later they'll break."

"Zelda stayed with you!" She growled at me, but I just stepped out of her way, back into the blackness to prod at another set of soil tiles. "Link, you don't understand-"

"I know Midna, because according to you, I'm just too damn stupid to comprehend anything."

"Because you are!" she screeched at me, but her reaction more than encouraged a faster retreat on my part. "You are! You've got your head so far up your own ass that you can't hear what I'm telling you- The twilight here – it's been tainted- Can't you feel it?" Her pleading tone forced me to pause and attempt to perceive something I knew I wouldn't ever feel. "It's been tainted, and I walked right into the trap- Link, I wasn't myself- I… It's something only Link would understand-"

"Because he's freaking omniscient, I get it," I barked. "Sorry, but I must have left my All-Knowing Hat at home." By now I had turned away from her completely and stopped walking, my back rigid with suppressed anger as I dared myself not to look at her. I could tell she was near frustrated tears, but I didn't care; I couldn't care. She wanted my forgiveness after nearly killing me a second time? Did she honestly expect me to wave it off and act like it had never happened, that whatever relationship we shared had never been shadowed by the occurrence, just because of some "tainted twilight"? What the hell did that even mean? I couldn't take it anymore and turned to appraise her, and seeing my concession, she just watched wordlessly with her arms dangling limply at her sides.

"I want the truth, Midna," I began firmly. "If I hadn't found that fairy, what would you have done then? I don't even know what I almost died for back there, for Din's sake!"

"Sit down."

Maybe we were finally getting somewhere. I sat down with my back against the wall, my knees bent and my forearms balanced across them, waiting expectantly as she hovered uncertainly, then descended slowly until she stood before me. We were still in the garden room; she emitted a soft grey light that revealed nearby spikes and a broken pillar and an incredibly sad expression on her compact face. I realised then that I didn't want to cause this level of discomfort for her – without reason. And evaluating whether or not a certain cause was worth dying for… well, that was certainly a valid reason in my book.

She asked softly, "What do you know of the Twilight Invasion?"

"My parents mentioned it once or twice, but nothing really specific. They were really young at the time."

A tiny smile curled her mouth. "The Twilight Realm is a sort of mirror of Hyrule, in that it derives from distorted Hyrulean magic. Zant took over in a coup, and for my involvement I was banished here, with this shape…. If we can find the Mirror of Twilight, I'm sure we can travel back to the Twilight Realm and rescue Link-"

"Why? Why is he there in the first place?" I demanded rudely. "For goddesses' sakes, stop it with the half-truths."

After several solid moments of silence, she finally shook her head. "I don't know. But I do know that the longer we leave him there, the greater the chances are that he dies – and Link can't die, not there. I mean, it's true that the Doors of Time are slowing the passage there, but you must understand what Ganondorf's rule here means – at least, enough to know that he must be stopped at all costs."

I watched her carefully, curiously, before asking slowly, "Who the hell is Ganondorf? And what is a Door of Time?"

Sighing in exasperation, I thought for a second that she might slap herself on the forehead. But she lowered her fist and shook her head, suddenly straining with desperation. "Ganondorf is the man responsible for the ruin of Hyrule. He's behind everything. He's the reason why those soldiers tried to kill you during your citizenship test. And the Doors… Time isn't linear. There are tales of… of a boy who could travel between his present and a future in order to save the kingdom; he only accomplished that task by using these links between places in time… But that's a story for another time and place. For now, we need to focus on getting through here." She turned an intense eye on me, so that she struck a powerful pose. "I know you want to reform the government here."

"Well yeah. Midna, you waited around to find the one kid to accidentally survive his own assassination. Of course I want the government fixed!"

"Exactly." Launching herself forward, she stared at me earnestly, her hands resting on top of mine as she leaned in close. "We need to save Link before it's too late. He's the only one that can kill Ganondorf."

"Then why did you wait twenty years?" I shook my head. "Maybe time is passing differently for him, but you've waited so long-"

Pain flashed across her face and she actually hid her face, stricken. "I… For a long time, we didn't know what to do. We can't bring just anyone into the Twilight Realm; when Hylians are exposed to twilight, they become spirits." So, if I ever made it to the final destination, I'd be turned into a spirit? What the hell kind of trade-off was that? When I asked her as much, Midna beat her fists on the floor in exasperation. "No! Zelda and I- Link, I will find a way to get you there safely. I can't jeopardise everything with him so close- I will find a way. You need to trust me."

I sighed heavily. What should have been a narrative turned into a persuasive plea – not that I didn't really expect it, but Farore, Nayru, and Din, why was it so hard to be truthful? Then there was the whole issue of spiritdom. I had no desire to lose my corporeal form. And she also asked for trust, which I didn't know I could relinquish so easily. Oh, I wanted to – I wanted to trust her with my life, mostly because I had nothing left to lose and nowhere else to turn. Without this purpose, I'd be set to wandering around Hyrule for the rest of my life, of no use to anyone. I probably wouldn't even be able to see my brother again. And if that was going to be the case, then I wanted to never see him again for a proper reason, and not just for something related to being a vagabond.

That damn white glow flickered at the edges of my mind and I wanted immediately to swat it away, even though it had to be Zelda. How she was _in my mind_ I had no idea, but I was okay with attributing her powers to her Triforce. Tricky things, they were, if I remembered my history lessons correctly. I had trouble concentrating when she spoke because her gentle voice sent calming shivers down my spine: '_Patience._'

Easy for her to say. I had to travel through a huge death-trap just to find this fancy mirror thing. "I don't know." Sure, I believed her to a point – but how much of that was objective or subjective? But whenever I thought of what had happened between us, back in that chamber- There was no way I could just say, "Okay, Midna. Sure, you tried to kill me, but that's okay 'cause you didn't actually manage to pull that off. Best buddies again?" It wasn't possible for me to act like that. I wanted to be mad – madder than hell – but some small part of me actually harboured a little understanding when it came to her predicament, and I still wanted to be friends of some sort and- _My goddesses can I be any more disgusted with myself?_ I looked at her again, just staring. She hadn't said anything to break the fragile silence, and I hadn't encouraged her, so, not knowing what else to do, I thought some more.

I could just tell her that I couldn't forgive her, but that we'd still go on with the quest or whatever it was. But in doing so, we both would be disregarding the incident and informally exchanging a type of absolution. _Well that won't do; it's all or nothing. You just don't have it in you to be selfless and let something like that go._ Except, it wasn't a little trifle of a matter: Midna had almost freaking killed me in an all-out rage. In my opinion I was totally entitled to being more than a bit miffed by her behaviour – it was, after all, a huge deal being almost-killed. _Yes, a big deal. You're acting like the drama-queen pansy that you are._

Something was turning in my head, moving subtly so that the tide of my dilemma shifted again, precariously perched over the line separating LOGIC from PRINCIPLES. Yippee. As if the answer couldn't be any clearer. My eyes found her again, and this time took in the lost look and the smouldering fury set deep in her gaze. The defeated cock of her head. The clenching and unclenching of her tiny fists. I actually felt really sorry for her and everything she'd had to endure for nearly two decades. I felt sorry for Midna. I also knew that Link, being a selfless hero and all, probably would've passed on the grudge and simply moved on with the adventure for the sake of everyone else involved. _You need to have a very long talk with him after you find him._ I knew, too, that I would never be Link.

_So do you let it go and hang onto it within your own head and heart, knowing what she's done, and offer superficial forgiveness? Do you truly forgive her and move on with your life, because living-in-the-moment has helped you before? Do you tell her you won't forgive what she's done, and move on anyway? Will you never mention it again and continue?_

The possibilities seemed to spin out of control before me, and without consciously realizing it, I had captured Midna's anxious stare and returned it calmly. "I don't know if I should forgive you-"

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness," she replied quietly. Her eye turned away, downcast, almost abashed. "I can't accept it, because I don't deserve it. I just need your help. Just tell me that you'll help me rescue Link, and- and that will be it. Once he's safe, you'll be free to go. No strings attached." Midna looked at me again and it felt as if the passionate heat of some wildfire burnt unchecked in that one glance; it blasted through me as I stood there, unsuspecting, and I nearly shook my head. "I... I need to know that he's safe again. I need him home."

My throat felt rusted out, but I managed to fit my tongue around a subdued "I'll help." Satisfied, she sank back into the shadows near my feet without another word, leaving me to awkwardly adjust my grip on the sword in the abrupt darkness. _That went well. Now what?_

x

Midna remained unusually quiet while I navigated the rest of the stupid maze, although she did lend a hand when the Shadow Vermin paid me a second visit. Her silence disconcerted me; it was one thing being all on your lonesome in a huge crypt, but it was an entirely different matter when your formerly smart-ass, verbally- (and physically-) abusive partner suddenly turned as docile as a mute lamb. Literally. She didn't nag at me once as I poked at the chained slab, and nor did she criticise me for not realizing sooner what I was meant to do. The shadow remained as blank as any normal shadow, and it unsettled me. A lot. How else was I supposed to react to such a radical change in her demeanour?

Presently we had emerged in an equally gloomy room, though this one was considerably smaller and eerier and lit by a single magical torch somewhere out of sight. Somewhere close by I could hear an unfamiliar mechanical whirring and clinking and the constant shift of sand. She hadn't told me anything in the form of helpful guiding advice, specifically when it came down to just how much farther I had to go in the temple. I stood carefully near the edge of the tiles and brushed the tip of my sword over the river of sand.

"Just where does all the sand come from?" I murmured to my shadow. "Is this place gradually sinking or something, and the sand is being filtered through and pumped out?"

Predictably, she didn't reply, but I could almost feel her shifting uneasily beneath my feet. My lantern's oil compartment had shattered in the previous room with the maze and rats, so I was left to stumble around, squinting, relying completely on Midna's abilities to translate the sticky darkness whenever she decided to materialise. No, I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, but considering the fact that we had just fixed a huge issue between us a little over thirty minutes ago, I was okay with it and generally open-minded. Well, until I rounded the corner and discovered exactly what made those grinding noises.

"Midna."

She appeared instantly, though her movements seemed somehow lethargic at the same time. "Link."

I gestured to the whirling Spikes-of-Death mounted to the wall. _Whoever designed this place had serious sadism issues. _"How do you propose we, uh, negotiate those?"

Floating over casually, she examined the broken flagstone path and the rushing sand that flowed through the broken spaces. "Well," she said distractedly, "you could run across this way, but you'd have to be quick about it..."

"Because I'll dawdle when it comes to quicksand. C'mon, Midna-" I looked at her pointedly; the ill feeling from earlier was making me irritable. Okay, so the break from all those nasty comments had been nice – but in all honesty, it had worn out its welcome. _Are you masochistic, or what?_ But it was just no fun when your companion didn't converse with you. The last thing I felt like doing was speaking to the stagnant air again. "It's okay, all right? Yes, I still haven't forgiven you. But that doesn't mean you can sulk like this and play mute-"

Her sudden bark of a laugh caught me off guard, startling me enough so that I almost dropped my sword into the sand. "Mute? You think _I'm_ mute?" Laughing again, she grinned that awful smile of hers, the one that bared her glimmering fang to the dusty gloom. "Link can barely string two words together on a good day, let alone a whole conversation. The most I'd ever heard him speak at once was the last time I was with him – and I know for a fact that that was only because of some sort of interference beforehand."

"Well I guess I'll deal with that soon enough. I don't like silence, so just feel free to reclaim your favourite pastime." I waved absently at the ceiling, jumping across to the solid tile. "But keep the insults to a minimum, if you please."

I could see her smiling wickedly, but I wouldn't comment as long as she didn't comment. _Mutuality is a beautiful thing_. I'd just side-stepped my way past one of the rotating spikes when I noticed the soft patter of approaching steps. "Great, we've got company." Raising my sword, I waited, frozen, for the perpetrator to appear; instead I felt something bite me in a normally inaccessible place. "Oh, Nayru, what the hell is this!"

Midna exploded out of the floor with her Triforce blazing, shedding much-needed light over the area. "What is it?"

I stamped a boot into a huge sea of black bugs that had surged out of nowhere around my legs. "I'm getting freaking eaten alive by-"

"Poison Mites," she quipped. "Swing your sword in a circle-"

Dropping into a crouch, I fought back the urge to shake uncontrollably and scream in unadulterated disgust; the bugs had somehow wormed their way into my tunic and beneath my shirt, some of them even nibbling at my legs. Once I'd found my centre of gravity, I spun as smoothly as I could while trying to avoid the spinners on either side. The movement shook the nasty insects loose within seconds, and the jerking halt completely freed me of them. They exploded like firecrackers over the narrow strip of sandstone but I didn't wait for the grand finale of my handiwork; instead, I had bounded over to the next stone island, turned right, and lunged for the beautiful steadfastness of solid ground that popped up out of the darkness as if on command. There was another alcove directly across from where I stood now, brushing off my clothes and cinching my belt and bootstraps with obsessive frenziedness.

"My 'Hate' List is growing, Midna," I snapped, yanking with unnecessary force on a buckle. "I hate karma, I hate sand, I hate bugs, I hate Zoras, I hate fish, I hate-"

"There's something moving over there." I looked up, then across the sand pool to where she was pointing quizzically, her eyes narrowed. "I think it's that Oocca; she's probably trapped again. Go jump across and see if she's stuck in a pot."

Something was moving over there, and she wanted me to, once again, jam my hand into a pot in an abandoned temple? "What's an Oocca?" I asked warily. I didn't move.

"It's a pretentious Cucco-like being. You'd have to see it to believe it."

"That doesn't sound promising, I'll have you know." But I hopped the gap anyway with my curiosity hopelessly piqued. Several pots occupied the space near the back wall, and with a mischievous nod from Midna, I smashed them with another spin from the sword. Something ran squawking out of the dusty pieces, the sounds it made distorted and jumbled in the small space; I jumped backwards, staring, when the dust settled and the thing finally stood still.

"You're quite lucky us Oocca adhere to a differing set of survival standards!" said the thing angrily. To be brutally honest, it resembled a somewhat deformed Cucco – and an ugly one at that. Its eyes were bright with a single pale shade of pink or salmon, sans pupils, and narrowed into disgruntled slits. "Who knows how long it's been! Trapped in that-"

"If you really wanted to get out, you could have just warped yourself outside." The mutant chicken's head snapped to Midna in an instant, but the shadow simply returned its irritation with cool indifference. "I've seen you do it before, and quite frankly, I'm not impressed in the slightest."

"Don't you-"

Midna waved a hand, bored, then looked at me. I stared back, bewildered by the Oocca raging around in a circle, ruffling its feathers with spasmodic twitches. "Don't look at me," I said flatly, raising my own hands in defence.

"Pick her up," commanded Midna.

"He will do no such thing! He looks nothing like that traveller!" Squawking madly, the Oocca attempted to cow me with its very non-threatening glare. "In fact, this is an imposter!" Her tone suggested triumph; Midna determined otherwise.

"Stop causing a scene, you stupid fowl, and just read him his rights." _I get rights?_

"_I will do no such thing!_"

"Argh. _Link_," Midna growled at me, "pick her up already!"

_Yes. Picking up angry Cuccos is my specialty. What am I, your personal chicken-wrangler? _"Din. The things I do for you." Stooping obediently, completely apprehensive, I reached for the fuming bird-creature and, in one deft swipe, scooped it up by its clawed feet. The Oocca did not appreciate being handled as luggage; she landed one painful peck on my wrist, I dropped her, and Midna made to yank out her hair. Which, considering what it was capable of, I might not have minded very much. "Damn it! C'mon, man, that hurt-"

But the Oocca had strutted away with a would-be dignified manner, minus the fact that it very strongly resembled a degenerate chicken. "I will offer my services of my own volition," stated the creature with a flippant toss of her oversized head and a scathing glower at Midna. However, instead of explaining herself or her actions, the Oocca suddenly vanished into one of my pockets – and then I felt an unfamiliar warmth wriggling around, moving, not attached to my belt but-

"What. The. Hell." I turned my gaze to Midna for guidance, but her eye had widened to the point where, had she had visible or discernible eyebrows, I would have reported them as raised significantly in something like surprise. "She's in my pants."

"Belt, actually," corrected Midna, completely nonchalant despite the fact that a magic chicken had invited herself onto my person and _into my freaking pants pocket_ – not my freaking belt. "At least, for her sake, I hope so." She forced that awfully bright grin at me and I felt like closing my eyes or turning my head to avoid it, but her words brought me crashing back down to exasperating reality. "Then again, I never really liked Ooccoo, so maybe she deserves to be scarred for life."


	13. breathe me

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Breathe Me by Sia.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Stalfos soon became a new addition to my ever-popular, ever-growing 'I Hate…' list. The damn things just wouldn't _die_; you couldn't just hack at them with a sword. No. They had to be the most goddesses-damned annoying creatures next to whatever bizarre classification Midna claimed: Not only did you have to beat them in a sword fight, but you had to bomb their bones into freaking dust or they'd magically come back to life and violently remove your face for you. Lovely, right? And if that wasn't enough, they freaking moved in packs. Or duos.

I squinted across the gap to the other side of the room, and sure enough, there lay a pile of half-rotted bones amidst the usual crumbling rock and stonework. _Who the hell put these stupid monsters here? How do they survive in a crypt? Why haven't they all eaten each other yet, or done something equally useful?_ Ducking another swipe at my head, I stabbed sharply at the exposed decaying flesh of the animated skeleton in front of me. Its buddy hovered somewhere behind it, waiting for an opening, but I had rather cleverly backed myself up against a convenient wall.

Midna had found a seat nearby, just to the left of the bone pile, observing with a crooked smile and her feet dangling over the edge. Though slow to cotton on, I was pretty sure she'd realised her error in telling me that, "So what if the bird is in your pocket? It's not like she can really _do_ anything." Shortly after that Ooccoo had been relocated to a more distant compartment, one located safely on my belt, near the hip. "You're quite the little fighter, aren't you?" she called to me now. She said something else, but it was lost in the struggle to light and place a bomb before the fallen Stalfos' partner-in-crime moved in for the kill.

Not that I had any intention of letting it kill me; my face was flushed with incensed warmth, brows cinched in concentration, hands twisting and turning in a series of clumsy, fevered thrusts. The sword still felt awfully strange in my hands but with all the close combat I didn't really have a choice in the matter. And now, it _really_ didn't matter because I was mad. I'd had to dodge a rotating Spike-Wheel-of-Doom, battle two Stalfos at the same time, _and_ attempt to win an argument with my favourite shadow-demon over exactly _why_ I wasn't comfortable with something occupying my pants at the same time I was. Once again, it was _funny_ – Except it obviously wasn't. To me.

The bomb managed to blast the second Stalfos' brains out as well, and I ended up drawing out the next with an awkward roll-and-retreat, followed by a trusty bomb arrow. Midna hopped off the ledge, floating over to where I stood panting slightly and adjusting my weapons.

"Well that was a pretty show."

"Yeah, yeah I…" A heavy pause followed as I examined the curious wispy substance that had taken hold of my right forearm. I had on a not-so-white long-sleeved shirt underneath my tunic, and while I'd gotten into numerous scrapes since putting it on what seemed like ages ago, I knew for a fact that this pattern was entirely unnatural. From my fingertips to near my elbow, both skin and fabric exhibited an eerie grey tattoo. Not only that, but the skin itself had paled several shades until it looked almost translucent, like thin ice. Several fingers affected by the grey swirl also apparently had no solidity, since only the pale parts of my hand and forearm could touch and wield my sword. That put a serious damper on my successful Stalfos battle. But despite my distress at this development, I automatically hid it from Midna's suspicious gaze, for once actually thankful for the dim lighting.

"What is it?" she repeated again, but I just shook my head and grinned.

"Just marvelling at my skill."

"We need to get out of here before your ego suffocates us both."

Yeah. I wished that was our biggest problem here. Numb with budding panic, I shook my head and followed her as she passed through the raised gate, beyond which I could barely make out a sketchy-looking passage that curved to the left, into – SURPRISE – darkness! I especially wouldn't mind living in a perpetually lighted room since for all intents and purposes, my arm looked and functioned like a goddesses-damned shadow. I did not want to morph into some strange creature because of this adventure. Nor did I want to tell Midna, because I knew we were close to the end. I could feel it. And Zelda's reassuring glow hovering at the edges of my mind's eye only encouraged that mindset. She felt stronger and closer than before, back when Midna left me to die – then, I'd barely been able to distinguish her presence from all the background noise. Now, I could very obviously see her… and she could apparently see me too.

'_Link_,' came her soft voice. '_Do not gamble with your life._'

_It's called living, Princess_, I snapped back. _I can't just _not_ gamble when I'm standing in a temple full of reanimated skeletons and pointy wall accents. _Her light shuddered with something like worry, enough of a reaction so that I actually felt bad. _I'll tell her if it gets worse. Promise_.

She fell silent, and in the lull Midna gracefully vanished into the dark patch beneath my feet. The Stalfos room loomed ahead, a golden invitation, but leading up to it were several stepping blocks amidst another stream of sand. As I leapt onto the closest square of broken tile and felt it shiver and sink beneath me, I swore harshly; the irritating _tick-a-tick_ of those Poison Mites echoed in the small hallway, and I stumbled in my hurry to escape their touch. I nearly tumbled into the sand when I lunged for the next ledge, but at the last moment my hand found purchase and I awkwardly pulled myself up, dusting any stray insects from my clothes.

"I never want to see another grain of sand after this," I muttered. Midna giggled, though the sound was somewhat distorted. "And I don't want to see those goddesses-damned bugs, either. Can't you use some fancy trick of yours to make them go away? You're certainly ugly enough."

She exploded out of my shadow, eye narrowed, expression anything but sympathetic. "They must be drawn to stupidity," she reasoned smartly, "and because you exude so much of it, it's a natural response. Stop chatting and hurry. We're almost done here."

_See,_ I found myself triumphantly crowing, _we're almost done. I bet you as soon as we get out of here, everything will go back to normal. Midna did say something about twilight and spirits when it comes to Hylians._

The uncertainty Zelda exuded was nearly palpable. '_I will continue to monitor your condition, then. But know this: I will not hesitate to inform Midna should something drastic happen._'

_I can work with that._

When the door appeared sooner than expected, I was still so engrossed with Zelda that I walked right into it. That garnered a lame guffaw from my shadow, which I dutifully ignored, and, rubbing my nose with irritation, I stepped back to examine the area. I had emerged onto a ledge above the Stalfos battleground; from here I could see a deadly-looking hallway, straight-ahead and to the left a little, complete with more weird grooves like the ones from Hyrule Field. There were several pots lined up alongside the wall, each of which yielded something useful – a pleasant surprise, although the appearance of the fairy rattled me.

"Is this a hint?" I asked, cautiously reaching towards the fluttering light. Midna appeared without a word and scrutinised the scene as I deftly bottled the sparkling mass. "I'm gonna save it for when I really feel like I'm about to die. I only have a mild case of that right now."

"Good to know," she retorted. "But yes, it is a hint."

"Brilliant!" Grinning, I obnoxiously waved the sword tip in the imp's face until she, too, shared my excitement. "See, look at that. I'm starting to infer things. Now what's behind door number one?"

Midna sighed heavily. Trust her to ruin the moment. "You never really know what's in the next room when it comes to places like these." She rapped on said door, nodding to herself. "This is probably some sort of lesser guardian of the temple. The sages put them here to ensure that the place remained inaccessible. Shouldn't be too nasty though."

_Oh, that's reassuring_. Just beside the doorway dangled an elaborate crest, complete with a scimitar and an array of arrows. Had the piece not been cockeyed, the sword would have hung perpendicular to the floor with the arrows radiating from the hilt. Levelling my gaze on her, I gingerly began plucking all but the sword from the ornamental wall hanging. "Aren't temples meant for like, worship? Why would the sages want to prevent people from doing that?"

"Oh, well," she said, seemingly flustered; I just narrowed my eyes. "These aren't temples for worship. They hide and precede powerful things that shouldn't fall into the hands of random passersby."

"You never told me there were 'lesser' or greater guardians of any type in here, Midna."

Her own eye had taken on an icy glint as she replied. "If I had told you, you wouldn't have agreed to help me."

"Sure I would have!" Admittedly, her comment offended me. I couldn't have _dis-_agreed, especially considering the fact that she had threatened to kill me if I hadn't left with her right then and there in the Lakebed Temple. And yes, I had the chance to say no after she returned back in the spike room, but what would have happened then? She could've just left me there to die. She definitely had it in her, so it wasn't exactly a foreign concept. I knew she could see that I was hurt. "You need to tell me now. I've only got bits and pieces to work with here, Midna, and your explanation wasn't exactly the greatest."

When she looked away from me, I almost expected her to melt back into the flickering darkness at my feet; she recaptured my attention instead. "Link nicknamed these places as dungeons, but temples or whatever you want to call them – they consist of three major things: a lesser guardian, the temple's treasure, and a greater guardian that you must defeat using the treasure. It's like target practice. They aren't too bad, trust me."

_Yeah, Link, trust her_. Her explanation disappointed me because she always withheld something. The seeds of doubt had been sown again, and it was like we'd taken one step forward and a whole leap back. Great. But I shook my head and readied my sword, and opened the door because I knew that by now I actually did trust her. When the door shut with a crunch behind me and I realised that there was this massive sword tied to the ground in front of me, I began doubting my faith in her. Again. So much for the bravado there, but the eerie half-light didn't help matters. _What have you walked yourself into?_

"Okay, so there's a sword." I walked up to it and poked it with the tip of my own blade.

Midna levitated near it, peering curiously at whatever was scrawled on the wooden talismans that were hung on the bonds. "A sword indeed." She'd just closed her mouth when my sword _accidentally_ severed one of the ropes, the whole place shuddered, and I looked up, alarmed.

_Idiot!_

Oh shit. I stepped backwards, eyes bugging out, while the huge cleaver of a sword swung upwards of its own accord and started darting around. How the hell was I supposed to fight a sword? I didn't think fighting fire with fire ever actually worked, and this situation just confirmed that suspicion. What the freaking hell. Midna, however, had moved so that she hovered directly in front of me. And then, quietly, so that the shock immobilised me: "I'll take care of this. Get your bow ready."

She vanished in an instant, but it soon became apparent that something was grappling with whatever wielded the massive sword. Transfixed by the battle, I steadied my bow and aimed for where the swordsman would grasp the weapon – and then in a blink of an eye, a huge ram-horned skeleton appeared, screeching in horrendous pain, swinging its burning gaze until it locked onto me and my petty arrows. Midna was screaming, "SHOOT IT!"

The skeleton launched itself into the air, floating around the perimeter of the room, near the ceiling, glaring and shaking its head with an almost comical motion. Not only that, but every time it opened its mouth, thick purple smoke billowed from between its crooked teeth, and sometimes, from where its nostrils had been. It kind of scared me shitless. So I shot it. Midna shouted some sort of warning, but it was drowned out by the creature's howling when it swooped and smashed its sword into the floor where I'd stood a moment ago. And once it did, I recognised the opening and struck at it with my sword, inadvertently inhaling the putrid breath in the process. My eyes watered something terrible and it felt like the air in my lungs had solidified. Stumbling, I tried backing against the wall, trying desperately to keep tabs on the demon, which, in my inactivity, had strung itself up near the ceiling again. I took a second shot at it, this time to dislocate the jaw and prevent it from opening its goddesses-damned mouth; I missed, but the third arrow didn't.

"This guy needs some peppermint or something!" I shouted at Midna. She laughed shrilly while I hacked at its head again. The purple smoke drifted harmlessly upwards, a testament to the successful strategy, causing something like adrenaline to shoot through my system so that the effects left me dangerously alert and nearly _dancing_ with the thrill of the scene. I fired another arrow and brought the beast down again, spinning with agile feet and narrowed eyes until I stood before it with my sword raised. The blade sliced through the air and found purchase between the skeleton's horns, deeply lacerating the bone, and in that moment the warmth of the room hit me, along with the stale smell of hot sand and the grey-silver glow of the place and the scratching noises as my boots slid over the sandstone. Something like a spell had been cast over this instant, slowing things down into infinitely slow motion, into hyperawareness; I could feel something terrible clouding my lungs again and burning the skin along my forearm and across the bridge of my nose. For a fraction of a second, I lost my breath and staggered, the room spinning crazily, the skeleton somehow absent from the big picture.

Midna shrieked. I jolted out of the trance by slashing upwards with the sword, just managing to stop the monster from hacking me to pieces, but not quite succeeding in deflecting the blow. It sent me skittering backwards into the wall. Time stopped and the room went black and cold – except it wasn't really, because that blackness and coldness was from the crowd of locusts choking the space. Confused, I stared in horror at the stragglers, unable to fully comprehend the apparent victory. A feeling of general illness hollowed out my stomach, more intense than before, so that I almost doubled over from the sudden cold sweat.

"What was that?" I whispered. Gold lights flared from some hidden crevice, giving the room a warmth akin to firelight without the flicker, and the heavy scents of sand and acrid smoke rent the air. "What did I do?"

"I killed it," she deadpanned, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Are you-?"

"Yeah." Lurching upright and using my sword as support by resting its tip against the ground, I looked at the frayed strands of rope that littered the floor. The nausea hit me harder than ever. "I-uh. I don't- I take that back."

Her eye appraised me curiously, but she had stopped moving towards the newly opened door. "Sit down. You're white as a-"

"I-I… Are you-are you sure it's dead?"

'_These monsters are the products of magic. They explode upon death_.'

_Zelda, I highly doubt you've killed anything_, I bit back in response. Irritated by Zelda's input, I tried to block her out but the white glow intensified until she broke through my lame defences. At this point, I could barely focus on more than one thing at a time; the room was either warm or bright or sandy. I wasn't a genius, but I could recognise when something wasn't right, especially when all it took was a quick glance at a transparent hand.

"What's going on? Link?" Midna's accusatory eyes found me suddenly, and within seconds, so had her prodding fingers and my thoughts of a certain princess' inevitable lack of confidentiality. She grasped the mess of my arm, which by now, probably thanks to that stupid monster's awful breath, had turned an ash grey with only the occasional sliver of pale white. My fingers were not longer functional, and judging from the stinging as she brushed my face, I assumed that the problem had developed into something a little more serious. Maybe I shouldn't have played the reticent hero. _More proof that I'm not cut out for this job_. After all, I was just hazarding a guess, but the arrow I'd been clutching between my last few solid digits probably wasn't supposed to fall through them and onto the floor. She breathed, "No!" into the silence, eye wide. "No! Not now! We're so close!" That was when I recognised Big Trouble.

"Midna." I could feel my chest expand and contract, could even feel a strange tingling in my damaged hand. Pleadingly, I looked at her as directly as I dared, something broken and numb rattling in my throat. "Midna, I trust you. I trust you, okay? I thought you could fix this- I-I don't want to be a-a ghost-"

"Zelda!" she shrieked. "Zelda, you know I can't-!"

"Can't what? Midna, don't effing tell me you can't fix this!"

Pain flashed across her features again, at the same time Zelda's soft glow invaded my thoughts. Annoyed, I covered my ears but lashed out when my wispy hand went through my head. This was too much. I understood what she'd said about Hylians and what happened when they encountered twilight, but this couldn't be happening to me. Hell, what was I even supposed to be looking for? An angry-faced black cloud? What did twilight even look like? Was it that purple stuff? She'd asked if I could feel it, which I couldn't; with what did that leave me? Farore, Nayru, and Din, but I kind of liked having a solid body in one piece.

"Someone do something!" But she didn't move, and I was frozen where I stood, stricken by this new problem. "Should I just- Is this going to spread? Is this why I've felt sick since-"

"Sick? What?" Her ears perked up at that, gaze swinging round to find mine. "Why didn't you tell me?" Sounding like a wounded animal, she began moaning: "Why didn't you tell me? Zelda, why in Nayru's name would you keep something like this from me! I _knew_ you were using the wrong hand for your sword-"

"I don't have a wrong hand! It comes and goes, but it's really not-"

Darting to my side, she took the wispy arm in her star-like hands again and squeezed – and I _felt _it solidify into an opaque black. "It _is_ related," she told me frantically. "I see now that the twilight infesting this place is wrong – Zant must have altered it somehow with his bastard powers. My magic consists of pure twilight, which is why your arm is suddenly solid again. This is what happened to Link, except he had his Triforce to protect him. Oh, goddesses, no- I need to get you out of here. We need to hurry!"

"I _was_ hurrying!" I jerked my arm out of her grasp, but the second we lost contact, it regained its shadowy form. Great. "Look, I'll just- I'll just avoid using it. And then, when we get out of here, it should go back to normal, right? Right?"

Midna blinked. "I… don't know. I mean, it should. The people all turned back into themselves after we freed them from the twilight. You're turning into a spirit."

"Well I don't want to be a spirit," I snapped. "I want to be me again. I want my arm back."

"We need to get out of here. C'mon."

Voice full of fearful warning, I waved the transparent hand at the floor. "When this goes back to normal, this gauntlet had better be intact and unharmed. It's part of my favourite pair."

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed, "You're _dying_ and all you can think of is your favourite pair of gauntlets?"

"Technically my only pair. But yes. Appreciate my levity."

'_Oh, Link_.'

_Don't 'Oh Link' me, not after the literal loss of my right hand_.

Zelda seemed a little taken aback by my response, but that wasn't going to stop me. Her feelings kind of paled in comparison to the shadow infection. There was also the small problem of my soul dying every time I fatally stabbed something in the face, even if that sensation was gradually giving way to indifference. And now, as Midna drew me into the adjoining room, an ornate burial chamber complete with a gorgeous stone sarcophagus, I began to recognise the logic in that reaction. Maybe this was how Link did it, by putting everything else away except for his main purpose – except, instead of mine involving lost princesses and stolen thrones, my focus rested entirely on curing this ethereal malady of mine… and _then_ rescuing the lost hero and the missing princess and the stolen throne. A guy had to have priorities after all.


	14. stairway to heaven

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

With the help of Midna's Magic Hair, I smashed that sarcophagus to pretty little pieces in order to uncover the missing gear. Said gear, also known as a spinner for simplicity's sake, quickly found a place among my favourite tools, despite its bulky size and shape. Midna had muttered something about boys and their fascination with new toys, but her words largely fell on deaf ears – but it came to an end soon enough. In spite of the simple joy provided by spinner, the impending doom that had nestled in my stomach became more insistent the longer I stood, staring blankly at the big key in my hand.

"You'll have to go in at some point," Midna pointed out softly. I nodded absently at her remark but my gaze didn't falter; rather, its intensity increased with a sharp pang of dread.

"What if I die in there?"

"You won't die," she soothed. "Worse comes to worst, you have two fairies, remember? You'll be fine so long as you keep your head. I don't want to hear you shrieking 'what the hell' in there either; it detracts from your already meagre concentration abilities."

"Midna, I have one hand. A sword and a bow require two." Oh, that made her uncomfortable. Served her right. Not really. I looked at her almost sadly, resigned. "I'm going to use one before we go in – just to give what's ever in there a fighting chance," I joked weakly. Uncapping the bottle, I unthinkingly shook the glitter onto my nonexistent palm.

It flickered white.

Then an ivory.

And then that familiar tan of my skin, from working so many sunny days on the ranch.

Sweet Nayru, but my hand was back! The magic spiralled from my fingertips to my elbow, and even a little above, almost to my shoulder, seemingly probing for any additional damage. When the light finally faded, I had a fully functional appendage back in my arsenal. I wanted to sing. And maybe dance. This was a new lease on life. This was awesome. As if trying to prove this, I waved the restored fingers in Midna's astounded face, humming with excitement. "Look! She fixed it!"

A little more reserved than I would've liked, she simply replied, "But how permanent is it?"

"You've always got to spoil the fun," I complained sourly. "Always. It's your one purpose in life."

"At least I'm good at it."

Shrugging, I jammed the key into the lock but didn't turn it yet. Some vestiges of nausea clung to the sides of my ribs and the back of my throat, a mere annoyance instead of the debilitating sickness from the skeleton's chamber. Of course, the discovery of the spinner brightened my mood enough for the negatives of the current situation to dissipate a little. However, now that I stood before the last door, knowing absolutely that after this last challenge, the path to the Mirror was free and clear, the panic and nausea became more and more pronounced. Zelda's light flickered encouragingly. I took a deep breath as the door rattled into the ceiling and out of sight.

A huge skeleton lay sprawled in the central sandpit, its skull lying askew and half-buried in the sand. The whole layout of the room made me wonder exactly who the hell had decorated this place and decided that spikes and sand made perfect décor elements. We'd entered a circular chamber with no solid floor to speak of, and a door set high into the wall several stories over my head. Midna had vanished into my shadow as I'd stepped out onto the stone causeway, but now, as I came to a complete halt, she reappeared.

"Well this is just brilliant," I muttered, somewhat disgruntled by the intense disappointment. "Mister Monster over there's looking a bit on the thin side." Had the damn thing just waited around so long that it just up and died? What the hell kind of setup was this? I looked around, wondering how she expected me to get to the exit. "What the hell am I supposed to do now, fly-"

"Link, hush." Midna had frozen, her eye wide, her hand outstretched to stop any forward movement on my part. When she dematerialised abruptly, I knew something was up; and within another few seconds, that something showed itself.

"What's this, Midna? Have you found a new puppy to do your bidding?" drawled a rough voice with a foreign accent. Immediately my gaze was drawn to the skull, on top of which stood a tall figure with pale blue skin, draped in several ornate robes. The headdress might have been comical if I hadn't realised the gravity of the situation. "I suppose they are all alike to you, these Light-Dwellers. I should think that-"

"You think nothing, Zant!" shrieked my shadow suddenly. Appearing in full force with her eye blazing, Midna levelled herself with the strange being. "If you've harmed one hair on his head I'll-"

"What will you do, my dear Midna?" She seemed to be trapped by a familiar envelope of unseen energy, though she struggled fiercely. "Will your new pet bite me? Your companion has yet to feel the full wrath of my god-"

The arrow bounced harmlessly off his helmet, but I couldn't be blamed for lack of trying. Midna was released in an instant – and in another, I had been captured in her stead.

"You dare to face _me_, the messenger – the _vessel_ – of a god?" shrieked Zant. He shook me like a rag doll, but I simply rolled my eyes. Living in the moment had made me bold, and quite frankly, I was enjoying myself.

"Actually, I came to prostrate myself before you, content to bask in your apparent godliness." He actually froze in that instant, and I heard him take a breath to say something, probably congratulatory to me and derogatory to Midna. This guy must have never heard of sarcasm. "Yes, I dare to face you, you stupid clot," I snapped at him. The idiot still hadn't thought to muzzle me, but I didn't care. "Why else would I freaking shoot you with an- ah!"

"NO!"

Zant let loose a furious howl as he tossed me across the chamber, and subsequently withdrew a black dagger that he thrust into the skull. I lost track of him when I hit the sand, but the suddenly writhing skull was quick to seize my interest once more. I'd floundered a little as I'd hit the steep, shifting slope; I ended up clawing my way back to the solid stone that ringed the room, and just as I righted myself, Midna tossed the spinner at me. Only then did I turn around to observe what I was up against.

Mr. Monster didn't look half-bad, raging as he was with his bony arms flailing. I managed to avoid the scolding temporarily as she suggested that I aim for the dusty spine buried beneath the sand. Whatever drove the fossil was giving it the power to spit torrents of fire and smoke at portions of the track, but thankfully for me, excluded the ability to see properly. Easily dodging the attack, I glided around until I had a clear shot at the skeleton's spine before launching myself down the slope. Midna screamed something at me just as the stupid monster howled, his body tumbling farther into the pit.

"Farore, Nayru, and _Din_," I swore loudly. Instead of collapsing like I'd hoped, the damn thing propped itself against the ground and sicced an entire army of little skeletons at me. They wouldn't have been a problem if my fingers hadn't started to lose their solidity again. Even with my sword jammed into a sheath relocated to my belt, I couldn't use my bow to snipe at them because I didn't have adjacent fingers to hold the arrow. The spinner also refused to accelerate perpetually; after a minute or two of contact with the rough sand, it needed recharging, and I did not have the coordination to snipe and gun the damn thing. Frustrated, I aimed for the ranks, sword out and ready to be swung like a bat, the despair invading my thoughts being held at bay by Zelda.

At first, the spinner sliced unmercifully into their ranks, so that I thought I actually had a chance at chipping away at more vertebrae. Instead, just as I got close enough to sever the cartilage, one of the skeleton soldiers knocked me clean off the spinner and into the quicksand. I struggled to grasp the gear, only to discover the utter loss of my right hand and forearm. Awkwardly hugging it between my elbow and chest, I managed to free my sword hand and throw it over the top, kicking desperately in an attempt to tread the shifting sand as it rose to my chest. But it was no good. The sand filled my nose and my mouth and all I could comprehend was the immense weight and smell and dry-dampness of it all. In another moment, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes open; it was like the earth had decided to swallow me whole, and just to mock me, the soldiers hacked at my exposed shoulders while I drowned there, helpless. For all of a frenzied moment I wanted to let it happen and give in to the black spots – until something dark blasted a crater into the sand, taking out the skeletons in its violence. And then a tiny palm caught the back of my collar.

Still miraculously clutching both the spinner and my sword, I shook the sand out of my hair as I coughed up my lungs and what had to be half the freaking desert. Midna hovered behind me, tossing something across the room to keep the monster occupied while I recovered.

"Is it just your hand? The one?"

"Uh, yeah," I spluttered, shuddering at the feeling of sand between my teeth. But I determinedly pushed myself onto my knees, and then to my feet with minimal wobbling, brandishing the sword with my remaining hand.

Midna turned her face to me, obviously worried. "You still have one fairy."

"I can't use it yet. I'm going in-"

She nodded her assent and I gunned the spinner over the sand, cutting through the undead troops with renewed vengeance. I had to avoid several more fire balls from the reanimated fossil, but after two tries and a lucky hit, I finally managed to cut into its spine enough for it to give up and go back into its hole to die. Except it didn't. All the sand drained out of the place with the destruction of the torso, but oddly enough the skull remained on the newly-appeared packed-sand floor. When I hopped into the exposed pit, I noticed the opened flood gates that must have drained the sand to some other part of the complex. Lovely. Had the engineers stumbled across the skeleton and just decided it'd make a great plug?

Midna flitted over to an exposed gear slot at once, her expression anxious, her hand clamped over her arm. Stumbling over the spinner, I skidded over to where she was and narrowed my eyes at her. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," she snapped, pointing sharply at the floor. "Just raise the platform so we can leave before anything else happens. Half your face is shadow."

I cast an unconvinced look at the motionless skull, but set the spinner in the groove anyway. However, just as I began to gun it, a crippling wave of sickness made me stagger sideways, nearly toppling clumsily to my knees. Somewhere nearby, I heard her gasp something into my ear as she grasped my shoulder.

"Are you hurt? Link, answer me!"

"N-no, I-" Dry heaves wracked my frame before I could answer properly. I was on my knees, trying to hold the floor at bay while the intense malaise surged through my body. Struggling to breathe, I squeezed my eyes shut and- It was gone. The Triforce burnt brightly in its stead, Zelda's presence dangerously _solid_ in my mind, like a concrete thought.

'_Hold on. You're so close._'

"Link? Link, answer me, for Din's sake!"

"S-sorry! It's uh, it's gone now," I stammered. "It's gone. What the hell happened?"

Midna shook her head desperately, pointing at the abandoned spinner with renewed urgency. "I told you, the twilight is tainted here; we have to hurry-"

"I have no desire to stall." Especially not after that episode. After a few seconds of rapid gunning, the stone dais on which we stood began rising out of the floor; the faster I moved, panting heavily, the higher it rose. Midna followed the ascent wordlessly with her mouth set in a grim line. When it settled at a respectable height, I jumped off the spinner and stared disbelievingly at the door, still a good throw away with no distinguishable means of reaching it. I was just about to hop back on and rev it some more when the rumbling started, and the skull screeched at me, I spun around, drew my sword, and thought vehemently, _YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME._

But no, the joke was on me – although I definitely wasn't laughing as the damn thing charged at me, knocking me off the edge and sending me tumbling into open space. I hit the ground below with a solid _thump_, Midna spiralling out of my shadow and begging me to get up; the fall had knocked all the air from my lungs and the fuzziness back into my vision. Reeling slightly, I pulled myself to my feet and made a dash for the spinner track set into the wall. Taking her cue, Midna darted back into my shadow while I gunned the spinner, raced around the raised platform, and marvelled privately that I wasn't yet dizzy enough to topple off the gear.

We'd nearly reached the top when the goddesses-damned monster thrust his ugly mug in my face and spat – of all the things a flying skull could spit – a freaking huge fireball. I jumped at the last possible second, sending the spinner careening wildly across the gap, but no sooner did I touch down on the outside wall, did he fire another. I ended up leaping from side to side until, leering, he swooped in close and I leapt again, out of furious passion, and landed inside his reeking mouth, forcing him to tumble out of the air and land heavily on the ground.

"Go for the sword!" Midna shouted, and I nodded, rolled, and stabbed the obsidian blade with my own until pieces of it began to chip. The force of the blows sent spasms through the skull, rocking it from side to side violently as I struck again and again. By the tenth strike, it had reared up into the air once more, though it seemed to falter slightly, and for a moment, the fire that burned in its eyes dimmed. Needing no more encouragement, I launched myself at the track.

It didn't last long. I swore harshly when I missed my target entirely, sending me plummeting towards the ground. "Why can't you just stand still!" I screamed at it. The disembodied head sneered at me from high above and I glowered right back, livid. I had been lured into this goddesses-damned adventure; I had been almost-killed countless times, twice by my own goddesses-damned partner; I was suffering from having random bits and pieces of my body practically vanish, and now, _now_ I finally realised that I'd be damned if I let this thing kill me. Since entering this awful place, all I'd wanted was to curl up in my own goddesses-damned bed and take a well-deserved nap. But wait- I couldn't do that, because I'd lost my bid for citizenship and gotten exiled all because I'd dared to defend myself. This skull had roused something frightening within me, spurring me into leaping back onto the spinner and racing back up the wall to where it hovered.

"Coward! Face me like a man!" Midna materialised, surprised, when I started shouting at the skull. It didn't acknowledge me, so I assumed it was deaf. Maybe it was for the better. Didn't stop me from screaming. Hurling myself into its gaping mouth, I sent it crashing back to the chamber floor where I slashed at the sword unmercifully. "DIE!"

With the angriest blow yet, the blade finally shattered at the core with a shockwave that radiated outwards and knocked the feet out from under me. The noise from the explosion rocked my ears into a comforting deafness, during which I stared disbelievingly at my shaking hands, almost forgetting to breathe out with all the inhaling I was doing. Midna flitted out of my shadow in an instant, her hands braced against my heaving shoulders.

"Exhale!" she commanded. "C'mon, stop taking such big breaths; you're going to pass out. Link-" Black spots had begun popping before my eyes and she slapped me, turning my face so that she could see my eyes. "Link! Breathe OUT!"

I huffed at her, struggling to control the urge to swallow the whole freaking atmosphere. After several moments, my breathing had levelled out and I choked out a soft cry. "I-I just killed that thing, right?" The world felt shaky, and the air seemed too insubstantial in my lungs. I wanted more, but Midna held me tightly and shook her head.

"Just breathe out for me, okay?" she murmured quietly. "Just keep breathing out- You did a good job... Just breathe out, Link."

"Midna, I killed... I killed that thing… right?"

"Yes, yes it's gone. We have to get back to the top; the door should be open-"

My eyes had caught her shoulder again, this time spying the jagged blue-violet gash that parted the velvet skin. "Your arm."

"I'm fine," she snapped, suddenly impatient. "We'll take care of it when we're out of here. We need to get you out of here, now."

Getting shakily to my feet, I pulled my hat down over my ears but I couldn't step onto the spinner – the only part of me that hadn't turned into a shadow or a spirit yet appeared to be my left thigh and maybe my sternum. Even if I knew where to put the spinner, I wouldn't be able to operate it. Midna swallowed what looked like panic before grasping my upper arm and tugging, leading me over to the gear slot, my last fairy clutched in her hand. The fairy only restored my right hand and my lower legs, probably due to the way we released her, but hey, I wasn't complaining. Within minutes, a stone causeway bridged the gap to the door, and we stumbled across and into an ornate, open-air stairwell. As I concentrated on taking step after step, the "tainted twilight" issue kept resurfacing in my mind so that I couldn't ignore it anymore. Maybe Midna hadn't been herself, had been affected in a similar way by whatever was making me weak-kneed and light-headed. With the way she kept trying to usher me up a series of stairs that abruptly appeared in my limited field of vision, I began to single-mindedly believe that there might be some relief at the top of the flight. Nayru, but I could only hope.

My hand was slippery with cold sweat, my stomach churning with icy apprehension. My mind felt empty, spent. We emerged into a darkened courtyard of sorts, the warmth of the air somehow displacing me to the point where I very narrowly avoided a vicious slash from some shadow beast. Midna gasped beside me.

"Use your sword!" she urged. "Link? Goddesses-damn it, can you hear me?"

"Got it," I muttered, twisting away, but I couldn't stand on my own anymore and crashed to my knees, instinctively knowing that this was it. For a split second the world faded to black, and then I woke up with my cheek pressed to something sandy and warm. Somewhere nearby, something screeched horrendously. Seconds later, claws tore into the exposed flesh of my face, the opacity of which apparently didn't matter to crazy shadow monsters, and I tried kicking out, moving away, but my movements were so uncoordinated that I just fell motionless once again, struggling to breathe. Midna's voice shrieked in the background. Then hands pulled me upright, so that I sagged against something roughly my height and weight; when I squinted at the person holding me, I caught a blurry glimpse of a young blonde man with a tanned, angular face.

I leant heavily against the man until we reached a central figure, a huge statue of some cross-legged woman. Midna's voice issued from his mouth. I stared for an uncertain second, wavering, before finally setting the offered spinner to the track with a disintegrating hand. The man and I rode it unsteadily until it levelled off at the top, where he gestured repeatedly at a gear-shaped indentation. Several minutes of his frantic gunning forced something out of the sand down below, something that radiated an awful, dense sort of _despair_ that irresistibly drew my interest. A sick fascination blossomed in me. I had to see it. Spinner in hand, I made to ride it back down the track, to the thing that emitted such a terrible aura, but only made it halfway down the statue before my vision flickered dangerously and I lost my balance, landing bodily in the thick sand. Midna was shaking me this time; I could feel her tiny hands moving, patting my face and jostling my shoulders, but my body wouldn't respond to my commands. Had I solidified into a shadow?

Something white flashed out of the encroaching gloom, and in an instant, I realised it was Zelda's Triforce beating away the stifling darkness. '_Link..._' Her voice filtered through now, but it was distant and small; this was the brink, I knew, and if I didn't distance myself from it, I'd go tottering over and into oblivion. '_Link... You've... Get up... Please, Link... Mirror... Okay? Link?_'

"Midna..." Her hand grasped mine and I held it like a lifeline – the contact with the Triforce was forcing it all away, clearing my mind, hammering control back into my limbs while the twilit magic restored my hands. When I finally detected the night sky and my general surroundings, I almost felt ashamed of my heavy breathing and weak responses.

"Holy Nayru," I gasped, struggling to sit up despite the leaden spinning in my head. A large circular something glittered malevolently in the starlight, drawing my attention, and I staggered upright until I could edge closer. "Is that the Mirror?"

"You should sit down," she replied nervously, her eye shining brightly. "Sit down before you hurt yourself."

I shook my head and swallowed thickly. "I'm fine-" And I was, until that sick fascination, seemingly condensed into a volatile ball, leapt inside my chest, forcing me at the Mirror frame so that I stumbled, crashing headlong into it-

"DON'T TOUCH IT!"

But it was too late: My left forearm had smashed into the only remaining piece as I'd braced myself for the fall, the crackling black energy having already taken a hold of it and transformed the extremity into some wispy grey -green substance. I heard myself scream bloody murder; scream as the shadows wrenched me apart, seemingly demolishing me, piece by piece, while I was still alive and conscious; scream as something sharp sliced mercilessly into my chest, soaking my front with viscous lifeblood that I couldn't focus on; scream as I felt the acid burning through my veins as Midna pressed something against my flaming skin.

And just as suddenly as it had started, everything grew quiet, and very, very dark.


	15. stop!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Stop! by Against Me.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

_You can't tell me that this charming rock ceiling isn't familiar_.

I couldn't honestly be blamed for disliking my present situation. In the brief moment that I had allowed my eyes to flicker, I had come to realise that something – or rather, _everything_ - was really very wrong. The darkness had shimmered with malicious heat waves; the fire had leapt with murderous intent. ...And that goddesses-damned cave ceiling had sparkled down at me, leering, just before I'd lost myself in oblivion again. The world had been a hazy mess for goddesses-knew how long, and from what I'd seen, unless it was the gruesome product of some sort of persistent, delirious dream, the world wasn't about to right itself. I hadn't dwelt on the possible circumstances for very long, simply because I didn't have long to think about them.

Consciousness possessed a frustrating one-dimensional quality for me: I could either see, or hear, or smell. Couldn't really interact with my surroundings, seeing as I could barely process two sensory signals at once. Couldn't say that I minded much, either; the dense shadows were almost comforting with their close warmth, and I surrendered almost voluntarily to their care. The panic always helped me resurface again, marginally, though I found myself hoping that Midna would use her Triforce once more.

_Maybe she's left you again._

I wanted to shake the idea, but the gnawing fear continued to grow at an alarming rate. Something shifted silently; the gentle crackling of the fire began to seep back into my awareness, surprisingly accompanied by an acrid, heavy smoke. Any second now I expected to be overcome by the familiar darkness.

Any second.

But the sound didn't fade. The fire felt warm and bright, rain pounded on a solid surface somewhere outside, and the thick smoke hung suspended above me in a dark cloud. Blinking slowly, I took in the startlingly different world and resisted the aching horror. Light surged in sluggish, golden waves against the rock walls, and the shadows that threatened to encroach on our camp seemed to dance with malicious glee. Brilliant.

I, however, was determined to face whatever life decided to throw at me. Obviously confrontation was at the very bottom of my To-Do List, seeing as everything else that I had willed myself to face had chewed me up and spit me out again with excessive violence. That 'everything' included the Mirror, which had somehow-

Oh shit. _Shit_. How could I freaking forget?

I sat up as my breathing quickened, my eyes drawn immediately to the darkness that had consumed my arm. From the fingertips to the elbow, I saw shadow: full-blown, opaque and wispy, grey and black, _shadow_ that had filled the space where my poor arm used to be, and even almost extended to my shoulder. _Well this is just effing brilliant_. I flexed the fingers a little; a roaring sound had moved into my ears.

"Don't move."

Her voice startled me out of a trance. Glaring slightly, I settled more comfortably against the rough rock face. "What do you mean, don't move? My freaking arm-"

"I mean, don't move," Midna spat at me, materializing rather abruptly. "Lie against the wall and hold still." I stared. Narrowing her eye at me, she placed a small hand on a jutted hip, the bandages she'd been holding fluttering in the heat from the fire. "What are you gawking at?"

"I could see that."

"See _what_?"

"I could see you in the shadow!" I pointed at her with my good hand, eyes wide. "Like, I could see _you!_ You- Not just- Not just your shadow on top of mine- I- Hell, I saw _you_, the same way I can see you right now!" What the hell was going on? I had _seen _the glittering transfer of energy – I had _seen_ her glistening outline amidst the true shadows. Terror and ever-present panic gnawed at my insides while blood sang through my veins, burning as it flowed like dormant acid. I swallowed thickly, the dread weighing even more heavily in my gut. "Farore, Nayru, and _Din_, but I could _see_ you move out of that shadow!"

Her jaw slackened just a little, and what looked like fear crossed her features fleetingly. How encouraging, Midna. "Give me your arm."

"Don't freaking tell me- My arm's a... a... _shadow_, or something, and I'm seeing things I shouldn't," I snapped. "I'm not giving you anything. Tell me what's happening. Now."

She froze, her palm still outstretched. Then: "You're part twilight."

"I'm part twilight," I retorted, mocking her, even as I felt my stomach vanishing into a bottomless pit. I pulled in on myself, away from her, suddenly invaded with an intense defensiveness. "Well that just clears everything up, now doesn't it?" Swearing suddenly and ignoring her look of passive shock, I plunged my hand towards the floor and cried out at the strange sensation as it melded with the shadows there. "Oh holy _shit_. Shit, Midna!" I yanked it back out of the ground and held up both my hands, my heart reeling in my chest as my eyes confirmed my worst fears. This wasn't just some elaborate trick of the light; my hand had actually _dispersed_. "Holy _shit_. Farore, Nayru, and Din, but what the _hell _is happening?"

Midna shook her head bitterly, pointing at the obvious issue. "I told you, you're part twilight-"

"Well fix it!"

"I can't!" she exploded. "I can't do anything for you right now. This needs Twili medical attention; light and shadow weren't meant to mix-"

"I can't just-" My thoughts scrambled with alarm, I searched desperately for something – justification, logic, anything. Renado surfaced in my mind's eye and I seized on it. "I have to go _home_, Midna. I can't go back with this- this _problem_."

"You can't go home."

I looked at her. _What the hell does she mean, I can't go home? Who does she think she is?_ "If there is anywhere I could ever go, it's home, Desn or no Desn."

"You can't go home," she repeated. She even had the nerve to sound sad. This was starting to scare me. "Link, I'm sorry, but you can't go home like that. I don't know what's going to happen to you. It might spread, like last time."

_Can't go home... might spread._ Her words hit me like a numbing agent, stealing the air from my chest for a second time. _Can't go home?_ Why was I even worried about returning home? I felt shell-shocked, yeah, but that didn't warrant this reaction; I had left as an exile. Renado was probably still rooming with Talo somewhere, and I was fairly sure that I had officially taken up permanent residence on their bad sides. Not only that, but if I did happen to return, I'd be put on trial for murder. Not that any of that mattered right now, since my arm had essentially been _amputated_.

I shook my head, shoving the thoughts away. _The more pressing issue here is that you're becoming a freaking phantom_. Deflating slightly, I took in a shaky breath. "You're saying that- that I could turn into a shadow? Instead of a spirit, I'll be a shadow? Like you?"

She hesitated, then nodded: one curt dip of her head, and I knew that my life as I had known it was really over. There was no going back from this point, nowhere to just veer off and tumble back the way I'd come 'til this was no more than a possibility in my future – until this was just another scenario, another path for my life to take, another way for me to screw up. If this pattern kept up, this little adventure would have to have its name changed from 'How to Save a Hero,' to 'How to Cheat Death a Hundred Different Ways, Each One Being More Creative Than the Last.' Then again, I could just as easily end up with the starring role in 'How to Fade Away into Oblivion as a Half-Breed Mishap.'

Shrugging a little, I accepted the hunk of bread she tossed at me. I could tell already that my subconscious was working feverishly to repress any outright distress, and to be honest, that suited me just fine. I even laughed a little. "So I've been inducted into the Order of the Things That Go Bump in the Night. Yippee. At least I'm not sick anymore. Maybe I'll develop cool shadow powers or something."

Midna, who had been extracting something from my pack, glanced at me doubtfully but didn't say anything. After eating, a near-disabling exhaustion set in and I had the urge to sleep for untold hours. And I tried my best to fight off the sleep until I discovered the details of – well, everything, since there were probably whole wagonloads of classified information yet to be discovered, but it was too much and I settled for the present warmth and drowsiness. I caught her movement out of the corner of my eye, just as my consciousness started to blur again.

"Hey, Midna?" Fixing me with her eye, half-lidded and nearly defenceless in her grief, I sensed some tiny bit of support. The raw emotion radiating from her was startling. "I want to see my brother, before we move on and do whatever we're supposed to do next."

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, Link."

x

My arm had become particularly temperamental after the "accident." During the day, it had to be wrapped in shredded cloth from my old bloody tunic, the same one that had endured the most memorable, albeit violent, experiences of my life thus far: the soldiers' attack, Midna's midnight rendezvous, the Zora ambush, and all the abuse from the Arbiter's Grounds, including the cuts Midna had inflicted to transfuse her blood with mine. The same transfusion which, _purely _coincidentally, produced the bizarre effects I was now experiencing.

Turned out that she'd saved me the only way she'd known how: while the twilit magic of the Mirror had dismantled me, she'd sliced me open and pressed her bleeding arm to my chest, sealing a type of magical bond. Very exciting stuff, minus the fact that the twilight's presence in my body generally brought on bouts of irritability and unprovoked fury, as well as the occasional bit of motion sickness. She'd very snidely informed me that twilight had some sort of strange connection to emotion, essentially working as an amplifier. That, and I was somehow bound to dear old Midna. Daylight hadn't forgiven this apparent shift to the dark side – my arm still ached terribly whenever the sun found me, and just looking at the bright sky made me queasy – but the soft rays at twilight and the gorgeous star-shine more than made up for it. …_Maybe in your reformed opinion._

Regardless, the second day into our journey and the fifth since we left the shelter of the caves, found us just entering Hyrule Field; the exhaustion manifested as heavy weights along my body, even as I slumped wearily into the saddle. Arden's swaying motion had lulled me into a mindless stupor until Midna intervened with clipped words.

"You're sleeping again," she stated matter-of-factly, suddenly beside me.

Blinking a few times, I managed a dull stare. What did she expect, a miraculous recovery after nearly getting torn apart by some crazy magic? I had been dehydrated to begin with thanks to the effing desert, and she herself had been the one to initiate the transfusion. I hadn't acclimatised to the twilight, it hadn't adjusted to me, and none of these problems were going to fly away conveniently even if she threw a temper tantrum. All of that, of course, without considering the amount of sleep I lost in that goddesses-damned temple, or the disconcerting void that used to be Zelda. "Technically, I was resting my eyes."

"Mmhmm." She handed me the wineskin and another goddesses-damned apple. At the rate she was feeding me these, I'd single-handedly consume Hyrule's entire supply of apples. I'd wondered vaguely after the first five where she was getting them from, but I'd soon decided that the question wasn't worth asking. This was Midna; case closed.

I brought the fruit to my nose distastefully, already able to taste the bile in my throat. "No more apples," I warned her, "or I'll implode."

She looked at me coolly, unconvinced. "Fine. Just eat the damn apple."

_That's right, command me. I'll oblige, your majesty, as your humble servant_. As soon as she turned her back to observe the horizon, I shoved the fruit under Arden's nose with a wicked smile. He crunched happily on the treat, though his pace slowed marginally. Midna glared.

"I told you to eat that."

"I didn't want to."

"What are you, five?" she demanded, annoyed.

"Try adding ten to that, and you've got it."

She didn't look very happy with me, but I couldn't have cared less. A light-heartedness had invaded my chest and penetrated my mind; the feeling reminded me of the time I raided Talo's liquor cabinet when I was nine. _I bet you ten rupees that she put something in your water_. I sent a sly glance her way and met her livid expression head-on. _Ouch._

"What's that look for? I haven't done anything wrong," I snapped at her, crossing my arms over my chest. The bandages over my left hand became tangled in my belt buckle, and I fiddled with them one-handedly as Midna took a deep, angry breath.

"You fed your horse that apple; I saw it."

Defensively, I shrugged and straightened a little. "Yes. I did. Are you going to bite me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I'd rather not get infected with whatever-grade insanity you've managed to cultivate in that head of yours." She bared her teeth, and I held up my hands. "All I'm saying is, that was the third apple you've given me today, and I'm absolutely sick of them. I've lived off of them for the past effing week, and if I so much as _see_ another one of them, I'm going to fall off my horse and die." Arden snorted, apparently offended by the comment, so I reached around and grasped his bridle, narrowing my eyes. "Don't you start with me."

Midna scoffed, a kind of snorting, snuffling cross-breed that completely ruined her intended effect. "You'd do well to listen to me, regardless of your distaste for apples."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. If I took your advice, half the time I'd end up in some dreadful situation, with zombies or whatever. 'S'what got me caught up in this escapade in the first place."

"You don't regret it though," she responded mildly. Then: "If I give you some bread, will you eat it?"

I cast a sidelong look at her, appraising; she was hell-bent on feeding me, apparently. "Sure, why not? It's not like you're trying to poison me or anything."

"Why would you say something like that?" And goddesses-forbid, but she actually looked _hurt_.

"You know that wasn't meant to be sarcastic, right?"

Shaking her head with apparent irritation, she hovered over Arden's neck, right in my line of sight. "You know I'm just trying to help you," she asserted, but it sounded more like an accusation. I stared at her, bewildered, as she continued. "We didn't exactly have optimal conditions in the Arbiter's Grounds, and you suffered for it; now, when I'm trying to make up for it, you refuse to eat your rations, instead spending your time _sleeping_ or daydreaming or whatever it is you do when you're 'resting your eyes.' And I don't like it."

"_You_ don't have to like it," I retorted. Who was she trying to be, my effing mother? "I can act at my own discretion-"

Her hand shot out, reproachful, and grasped the loose cloth twined around my arm. I cried out softly at her touch. "This wouldn't be as bad if you'd been properly prepared. And yes, I do realise that I'm to blame, but right now you're making this more difficult than it has to be." Shifting again so that I was staring at her ramrod-straight back, she tossed her head.

I stared at her, annoyed. "I'll eat the damn bread if it'll make you happy, but it's been-"

"Smoke."

"It's been smoke?" I'd just reached for her shoulder, to force her to look at me, when she drifted aside and pointed at the distant trees. I stretched sluggishly, craning my neck, and scanned the horizon, the dread suddenly coiling in my stomach. Smoke meant fires, and fires meant bad things were happening somewhere, especially since the smoke had a deep grey tint to it. My eyes traced the columns' lazy paths over the trees but the wind was too strong to determine anything concrete. The twilight that sang through my veins began to burn again like liquid fire. "I've got a bad feeling about this," I warned her quietly. "I think you'll agree with me."

Midna looked at me coolly. "Of course I agree with you; why else would I have pointed out the obvious?"

"Just in your nature, I guess." I watched silently as she accepted the jab but refused to take the bait. When she dematerialised into my shadow without another word, I let her go without any further antagonism, instead fixing my eyes on the heavy clouds. They rose slowly over a patch of-

"Midna," I said sharply, tugging on Arden's reins and wheeling him toward the site, "that's Ordon. The smoke is coming from Ordon-"


	16. believe

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Believe by The Bravery.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

An eerie sense of déjà vu hit as Arden and I raced through the woods, ultimately retracing our first bumbling steps that had enlisted us in an elaborate search-and-rescue. Midna remained silent and tense as she gripped Arden's straggly mane. I'd told her that I could ride faster if she stopped orbiting my head and obscuring my vision, and she consequently took that to mean: "Seat yourself in my saddle and come along for the ride." Now, my main concerns included holding a sword while steering my horse, as well as trying to avoid decapitating my mount and my partner.

The three of us thundered over the simple wooden bridge and along the forest path, edging faster and faster through the torn-up brush until we emerged in the last clearing. When we passed the old tree house and hurdled the busted gate, Midna had issued a light gasp, but I didn't even bother to spare a glance; I had spotted the first of the fires, this one blocking the path into the village. Midna spun around to stare at it.

"There's oil-" she'd started, but Arden had already leapt clear of the dying flames. As we passed, I felt horror shoot through me at the sight of the charred corpse that lay at its heart. I didn't recognise the clothes, or the terribly burnt face, but-

There had been at least twenty houses in the village, but only three appeared unscathed by the flames and wanton vandalism. Most were missing shutters that had been torn from windows and thrown to the ground, while others had sustained damage to the gardens – unmistakable trampling from fighting, if the discarded weapons were any indication. On the south bank of the stream, a fire released thick clouds of black smoke and the terrible stench of cooking flesh. Whatever had happened here must have driven the villagers away or into hiding – if they weren't fuelling the flames.

Near the path that led to the goat pasture, a figure limped pitifully towards the stream where it knelt heavily and attempted to wash its face. Our momentum sent us careening over the bridge, my sword slicing at the air, my head whipping around to note the utter destruction. The man spun around at Arden's bellow, and I tumbled out of the saddle in my haste to help him, recognition having finally dawned. Keaton staggered into my tight embrace, his face slick with blood and his right arm held at an awkward angle. As I braced him, his eyes fluttered with heightened anxiety.

"Link? Link?" he kept whispering. I nodded at him and he seemed to realise who I was. "They're still here… Link they're here…"

Grasping his shoulders more firmly, I helped him stumble the few paces to Arden; Keaton looped his hand through the saddle immediately. "Who's here, Keaton?"

"Dunno…Came into town with Desn yesterday – killed Talo-"

"What?" I gasped, suddenly feeling faint. There was no way. _No_ effing _way_. "Keaton are you sure?"

Bobbing his head slowly and sinking to the ground, he pointed to the goat pastures. I needed no more encouragement. With bow and sword at the ready, I hastily scaled the rocky incline into which the gate had been set. My vantage point now lay above the path, and from there I saw where the other fires raged – about eight of them, spread an even distance apart and piled high with corpses. A smaller fire roasted several of the goats, while from the barn spewed a steady supply of men. What the hell did they think they were doing?

These were men. Not monsters like the Stalfos, or the Bulbins of the desert. These were Hyrulean _men_, each clad in the standard uniform of the Hyrule Imperial Army: red cloaks, gold crests on their maroon tunics over tan breeches. A wave of fiery hatred crashed through me at the sight of them, and when I took to scouring the immediate area for hay and wood, I could see Midna bearing the same expression of fury from the depths of my shadow.

"Are you going to kill them?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Good." Her eye glittered approvingly as she flittered out of my shadow and along the ground. When she returned with a flaming branch and a large bundle of dry wood, I stepped away from the pitiful pile of flammable material that I'd gathered at the gate's entrance. She deposited the branches, and handed me the torch. "You do it," she said, and I dropped it.

After clambering back onto the hill, I watched as the men belatedly noticed my trap. The goat pastures were ringed by steep stone walls, the furthermost exit opening into the fields that stretched for a good league or two before running into the mountainous border. With the only true exit blocked, the soldiers were trapped. They called to one another in dismay, but within the first few moments of chaos, I'd already killed seven of their number.

Midna purred from somewhere near my elbow. "Trapped. Filthy vermin."

I counted at least fifty of them, thirty-two still alive and able. They hadn't determined yet from where the projectiles were coming, instead running around the camp in a disorganised rabble, their lack of proper armour suddenly hilariously funny. "How many do you think I can kill with one shot?"

"Depends how well they line themselves up."

Glancing across the field, I picked out four men, each of whom had maintained rank and dashed towards the gates in a neat line. "I bet four," I murmured, switching my grip on the bow. The arrow darkened considerably when I touched it, almost shadow-like except for its opacity; I fired anyway with bated breath. The shot caught three of them through the chest, and the last one in the neck, and left each with a smouldering orange hole at the point of entry. I felt myself grin.

Shrugging, she flashed a fanged smirk. "Not bad."

I tilted the bow and silenced another panicking group. Somewhere, it occurred to me that the majority of the men were very young – a few years older than myself – very inexperienced, and very scared. It didn't matter. It didn't even matter that if I were ever brought to trial, that I was upping the body count practically exponentially. These people had invaded my village, murdered and plundered and all but threw a goddesses-damned _party_ while the bodies burnt to ashes. I had a hard time trying not to think about who those bodies had been. Sweeping the vicinity with fleeting glances, I recognised the smoking ruin that had been my house; Midna followed my distracted gaze and immediately dispatched herself on a recovery mission.

"I'll find him."

I merely nodded in response, lips set in a tight, grim line, and continued sniping. Most of the men had taken refuge in the barn by shutting the doors, taking turns peering outside; those trapped by the far wall were felled where they stood. Angry shouts rose up from the structure, in a voice I recognised as that bastard Desn's, and I felt my blood boiling. _I told you not to underestimate me._

"Stop cowering like dogs!" he screamed at them. "Cease this childish foolishness! You are soldiers of the Imperial Crown, are you not? Your allegiance lies with Lord Dragmire, and yet you _recoil_ from your enemies?" Something heavy slammed into a wall, rattling the sides of the barn slightly. I watched impassively, unable to think or feel beyond the fury – just process. The old fool himself had given me a scapegoat, this Dragmire, and now that I had that information, I would kill every last one of the miserable company. _Every last one. Bastards._

A man emerged with false confidence, taking no more than two hurried strides before he toppled over, an arrow protruding from his throat. In a perfect arc the blood sprayed the area around him, marking the former danger zone. Desn hollered again.

"Go, go, you dolts! Rush the gate!"

"It's on fire!" someone replied.

"IN THE NAME OF LORD DRAGMIRE, _RUSH THE GATE_!"

And then the remaining company, a pitiful nineteen, burst through the doors, their shields orbiting their bodies in shining arrays. I let them take a step for each of their number before killing the vanguard in quick succession. Granted, I had established my position, but the poor excuse of a militia lacked any projectiles, and were subsequently defenceless. Desn shouted at them about using the rocks at their feet, and some obliged; none, however, had any worthwhile aim. I shot the cowering men lurking at the back of the pack, suddenly forcing the panic level up another notch.

"They're coming from all over-"

"How many are there?"

"We're going to be killed!"

"STAND YOUR GROUND." Himself stepping from the shelter of the barn, Desn approached the group, apparently livid with their failed assault. "There is only one attacker!" he told them icily. "There is one _boy_ up on that ledge-" And he turned and actually pointed at me, and I waved back, grinning maliciously at the disbelieving soldiers. "There is one _boy_ up there, and yet none of you can-"

My arrow slammed into his back, jutting from his right shoulder just above the lung. Mentally, I patted myself on the back for the excellent shot. "Nice to see you too, Desn, you dirty little rat," I called down to him. "I've been meaning to talk to you about a few things."

He turned to face me, stunned, his expression waxed with pallor and unspeakable ire. "How dare you assault me!" he spluttered, but I could see the strength leaving him.

"I told you," I quipped, just as Midna handed me a bomb out of nowhere, "to mind your youngers." This time, the arrow thudded into his side, just clipping him enough that it would sting like crazy. The old man winced and fell to his knees. The bomb, twilit from the contact with my exposed fingers, caught the remaining company in a devastating explosion of gold, orange, and grey. I spun away from the scene to face my blood-spattered companion, the cries of agony and despair falling on deaf ears.

She revealed nothing. "He's alive," she told me blankly. "You should see him." I refused to reply to her, and instead clambered down from my sniper's nest and headed for what had once been my home. The wreckage had resulted in downed beams and collapsed walls, but there was no one inside. Midna simply shook her head; wordlessly, I moved towards Talo's place. A small something lay crumpled on its shaking side, curled up beside the prone body of the chief. "Ren?" I called softly, and the something turned its bloody, bruised face to mine, its eyes unfocused with pain.

"Link?"

"I'm here." Settling down beside him, I pulled him close to my chest and held on tight. He kept shivering bodily; loath though I was to ask, I did anyway: "What happened, Ren?"

The comment only renewed his sobs. "Th-they were with Desn - the army was. I was with Fado and Lena when they came, and we saw the swords and hid in the old tree house. Some of the other kids are still there, with Effie and Linkie." I nodded; at least I hadn't been alone in my distrust of the lying bastard. I hoped he was still dying in the field, so that I could go out and finish him later. Renado choked on a deep breath to continue.

"It was quiet, but when I heard Talo yelling, I came down with Cor to see what was happening. When we got back to the house, Desn had…" Pointing a shaking finger at the body beside us, he buried his face in my tunic for several long minutes. By the looks of it, the chief had been stabbed through the abdomen with a short sword; his expression still harboured surprise and betrayal. I felt something cold and slimy glaze the inside of my chest and sat back on my heels, still holding my brother.

"He kept talking about you, he-he- He forced the people to let the men stay in their houses last night," he whispered. "He forced us to feed them…they took the goats and ate them. When we woke up this morning, there was an order to kill everyone in the village. Keaton brought a few of us to the tree house again and left us there. I was with Effie. He never came back for us, and I came out to look-"

"Did they hurt you, Ren?"

"Just Desn. He thought he killed me."

I narrowed my eyes and nodded to Midna, who had once again hidden in my shadow. Her features mirrored mine; the twilight hummed with rejuvenated vigour throughout my body. "You're safe now, Ren. Where are you hurt?" Holding him at arm's length, I looked him in the eyes and attempted to gauge where the blood was from, but as far as I could tell, it was Talo's. He sniffled loudly and lunged at me again, hands scrabbling over my back.

"You l-left, Link," he bawled. "You l-left me, and th-they-"

"They're gone, Ren. I didn't want to leave."

He shook his head violently. "You _did_, you-you said you did-"

"Renado, if I'd wanted to leave, I wouldn't have come back," I snapped at him. He stepped away from me briefly, apparently abashed, then resumed his stranglehold. "I came back to see you, and I saw the smoke-" Shoulders shaking, he'd started to cry again; I couldn't pick him up, as he was around ten years old and that would have been strenuous on my part, and embarrassing on his. Instead, I hurriedly rewrapped my arm and held out my good hand to him, which he took. Together we emerged from the ruined house, me with my sword drawn, and Renado with his heart broken.

"They're in the tree house," murmured Ren quietly. "I jammed the door."

"Good work, kid."

He looked up at me, suddenly small and terrified. "You have a sword. Talo said you left to be a hero."

Laughing humourlessly, I led him towards the extinguished fire at the village's entrance. The ashes had been doused with water, and I strongly suspected that Midna had had a hand with it. "I'm no hero, Ren," I said. "If anything, you are. You saved those people."

We stepped over the ashes, and I motioned for Renado to take cover in the bushes. He obliged wordlessly; I ascended the ladder alone, taking note of the charring patterns near the base of the tree, and sliced through the wood that had been lodged in the doorframe as a lock. The sound of shuffling reached me through the door, and I stepped back, raising my voice slightly. "It's Link. The men are dead."

The door swung open immediately, admitting a red-faced Effie with baby Linkie in tow onto the narrow landing. She enveloped me in a hug. "There were so many," she sobbed into my shoulder. "Keaton left us-"

"Effie, get inside. Renado," I called down, and he emerged from the brush to scale the ladder. Linkie, meanwhile, stared at me with wide blue eyes; I attempted a small smile for her sake, but nevertheless motioned for everyone to return to the safety of the house. With the door safely shut, I took in the dusty mess of the tree house, a landmark that had been a staple in the village since my childhood. Six children huddled in a small group near the back on a half-broken four-poster, and four adults sat beside them, each set of eyes fixed on me.

"What's happening out there?"

"-know you're here, because-"

"Where have you been?"

"Is Talo…?"

"-the trial?"

Holding up my hands, I shook my head tiredly. "The men that attacked you are dead; Talo is too. I met Keaton on the way in, but he must be somewhere out there still."

Effie gasped in horror. "Please, you have to see if he's all right-"

"I'll go out and check as soon as I have the whole story. I'm sure he's fine."

An older woman spoke up suddenly in an accusatory tone, taking me aback: "They arrived yesterday, a whole company sent from this Dragmire fellow. That counsellor told us that Zelda was dead," she explained angrily. "This is a coup, that's what it is. We hid the children here, but everyone else went out to fight. Those soldiers, they came for _you_," she ground out waspishly. "They were looking for you. This is your fault."

I stared, thunderstruck. Had that bastard gone back to Castletown and insisted the village be _destroyed_, all because his goddesses-damned guards couldn't keep track of a teenager on a horse? It didn't make any sense – so of course it had to be true. Trust Desn to be a complete asshole and pick the most convenient excuse for a massacre. I had no doubt that I made the right choice in escaping, but seeing the destruction here, which was apparently my fault, introduced a new level of pain. Not only was I responsible for the murders of those three or four guards, but I'd also killed countless monsters and bandits and now this detachment of the Imperial Army – as well as half the goddesses-damned village. By now, someone had to have put a price on my head. And I could keep telling myself that this was for the greater good, but the fact of the matter stood out in stark contrast from all the rationalisation: I was a murderer. Even if this was all done in self-defence, or in defence of others, my hand had been the one to draw back the arrow and fire, and without Zelda's regulatory presence, the guilt weighed heavily on my conscience.

Shaking my head, I took a step towards the huddled group, holding my palms out in the least offensive gesture I could manage. "I'm trying to fix this, I promise. I will find Zelda. I took care of the soldiers out there for you, so it's safe to come out now-"

"If you had stayed and faced the trial like a man, this wouldn't have happened!" The woman hugged a small child to her, hands turning white from the intensity of her grip. "This wouldn't have happened!"

I wanted to tell them that I would have died. I wanted to say that I was working to find the real Link, the one who could save us from this entire mess. I wanted to say that I was sorry. But I couldn't say anything, and Midna shook her head from my shadow, and then Ren wrapped his arms around my waist tightly and held on until I pried him off with all the reluctance in the world. I muttered something about how I'd fix this, but I couldn't even wait for a response, because the woman was rearing up to throw a diatribe at me, and I had grislier things to take care of now. Shoving Ren into Effie's open arms, I fled through the door, mumbling something about being brave again, and that I promised, but nothing could really fix this and words couldn't really convey anything. And as the door shut behind me, I heard the plaintive cry for an absent mother.

x

"This isn't working, Midna." Wiping the bloodied blade with some long grass, I stared distastefully at the corpse of the old man. The interrogation had mostly consisted of steadily increasing pressure from my boot on his throat, and line after line of infuriating remarks. He'd called me a murderer, which I couldn't really dispute, but he'd said it with such a disgusting leer on his face that made my blood boil. Just before I ended it, he whispered, "I've put in a word for you, boy." Whatever that referred to, I didn't particularly wish to consider, especially with the carnage strewn about the pasture. I had to take care of this before the villagers decided to throw me into the bonfire too.

And it wouldn't be easy. Half the population had died in the attack, while others most likely fled while they had the chance. Not all of the corpses had been reduced to cinders and bone, leaving many half-charred bodies in haphazard piles strewn across the pasture, which itself suffered horribly from the troop movements. The ground resembled a field ploughed by inexperienced men, maybe the site of a stampede of horses. With the soil already loosened, graves wouldn't be hard to dig, but just how many could I finish before the survivors sought me out? While my back was turned, Midna must have quietly disposed of the body with that strange crackling magic of hers, because when I turned to face her, only a pile of ashes gave any indication of the earlier confrontation.

"You want to leave already, don't you?"

"Yes."

She sighed heavily but gestured towards the as-yet unexplored barn and whatever horrors it held. Something awful awaited us there, or at the very least, some sort of explanation for the Zoras and frontiersmen we found in one of the fires. "Ganondorf is Lord Dragmire. He's publically seized control of Hyrule from the castle."

"So what exactly are you suggesting?" I snapped at her. "Do you want me to just stand aside while that bastard gets away with massacring my village and killing my uncle and- and almost killing Ren? What exactly do you-"

Hand on her hip, she surveyed me critically and said slowly, interrupting, "Ganondorf is Link's problem, not yours. If you were to show up at the castle you would be killed instantly; you probably wouldn't even get to see Ganondorf at all. What we need to do, is go to Snowpeak to repair the Mirror and reopen the portal to the Twilight Realm so we can fight Zant on our own terms."

In other words, we would get there eventually, and when we did, Link would kill the guy for me. Where was the vengeance in that? But at the same time, I knew and understood that my fighting skills were a little more than mediocre, no matter how insistently my rage fuelled my self-confidence. Maybe she was right in telling me that confronting Ganondorf wasn't my fight, and never would be – that I had to use this as motivation to find the man who could properly avenge Ordon. After all, wasn't he from here originally?

"Fine," I conceded with as much irritation as I could manage. "Fine. But I want to be there when it happens, when Link kills him, because I- This is beyond ridiculous or appalling or anything. I-I don't have words for this level of devastation." I almost expected her to respond somehow, with painfully inadequate comfort or something, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she pointed at the barn and sighed.

"Let's have a look in there before we go, then."

"Yeah, let's go out with a bang," I muttered dryly. "I love parting surprises."

The barn had been built ages ago, by the founders of Ordon. It usually housed the animals, the farming equipment like the scythes and ploughs, and the village's storehouse, but as I approached, I noticed the scattered bridles and hay and grain. The army really knew how to throw a party. Good to know. Just before I turned the pulled back the door, Midna coughed lightly, and, irritated, I reluctantly faced her.

"That tree house," she started cautiously. "It's Link's."

"Well, he's gonna have a hell of a time trying to move back into it."

A tiny smile quirked her mouth. "When he finds out what happened here... You're doing the right thing, Link. Zelda agrees."

I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, well, it'd mean a little more if she actually told me that herself." And without waiting for a response, I took hold of the heavy wooden doors and pulled them along their track until the entire interior lay exposed to the cloudy afternoon light. In the centre of the main aisle stood a flat-bedded wagon loaded with some sort of lumpy cargo secured by a heavy canvas tarp. Edging closer to the shadowy area and ignoring the pitifully few goats, I reached out to brush my fingers over the rough fabric and the wooden planks that comprised the sides. Nothing so much as creaked. I grasped the corner of the tarp and tugged, but from the crinkles in the taut fabric, it appeared as though it had been secured on the opposite side. Midna drifted over and released the lashings, muttered something about this not being a good idea, and I tugged on the canvas until a body tumbled out onto the dusty floor.

"That's a frontiersman." I'd recognised it almost immediately; the stocky man wore traditional hide and homespun garb of the outlying settlers of Hyrule Field. His people inhabited the sheltered pockets of land beneath the buttes that made up the Faron border. The families usually visited during festivals or the harvest season in order to trade goods, but other than that limited contact, the tiny population had nothing to do with Ordon. I didn't understand how this man had died. Had it been in connection with the Ordon massacre? Had Ganondorf or Desn or some other sadist raided the nearby settlers just for kicks?

"There's a Zora or two in there as well," Midna observed quietly as she stared at the corpse curiously; she incinerated the canvas with a steady flow of wispy black magic, freeing the body's tangled companions. "This is worse than I thought."

Glancing at her sharply, I gently dragged the dead man over to one of the empty stalls and positioned him in a more respectful arrangement. "Midna, someone ordered this massacre. It was a freaking massacre; I don't think it gets any worse."

She shrugged, a light, involuntary dip of her shoulder, and levitated a Zora's body out of the hold, setting it gently in the scattered hay. Shaking her head, I watched silently as her Triforce pulsed softly in the gloom. "Reconstruction is going to be damn near impossible-"

"This Dragmire bastard, Ganondorf, whatever the hell his name is-" I hefted a fifth body into the ever-growing row, feeling my heart respond for the first time in hours. It sank considerably with new grief - new horror and anger that made my chest swell with an unnatural fury, one that I knew I had never possessed before the accident. _Maybe the twilight's settled_, I decided vaguely, blankly. Feeling came as an odd stimulus now, delayed and broken and confusing. I tried my best to ignore the sharp pangs as Midna levitated another body over to the others. "He will pay. And anyone else involved. I- This is-"

She sighed, "I don't know where to-"

"There are children in here," I snarled suddenly, cutting her off. I had wandered back over to the wagon for a parting sweep, when I had noticed a bloodied rag doll. Darting to my side, her eyes widened at the twisted forms crushed into the floorboards, each of them frail and shattered in a way that sent fire coursing through my bad arm. Midna growled sharply, muttering something about Link's friends being sacrificed, and the nerve Zant had for enabling this. Yeah, the nerve. I couldn't articulate words anymore, even if I tried. This was beyond sickening or infuriating and-

Letting out the deepest, angriest, saddest scream I could manage, I lashed out at one of the wagon's wheels and kicked it as hard as I could, at the same time smashing a twilit fist into the side. It instantly lit with a brilliant flash of green-blue before it abruptly crumbled to ashes and vanished in wisps of smoke. Midna rested a hand on my shoulder but I batted her away, still groaning and gasping and shrieking unintelligibly in the semi-darkness of the raided barn, my boots stuck with bloodied hay and wasted grain and terrible ashes. This guilt and fury and despair- They seemingly combined and coursed through me like a fire lit just beneath my skin that I couldn't ever hope to douse. This was my fault. Yeah, maybe I was doing good now, or some bastardised form of good, but the fact of the matter remained: if I had stayed and faced my trial, or even died during my citizenship test like I was supposed to, these people would be alive. Desn wouldn't have gone back to the capital and insisted on another raid. Why was I just realising that these villagers, my friends and neighbours, had suffered enough?

I could tell Midna wanted to say something, but I beat her to the punch with a brusque: "I'll ask Keaton to bury them."

"You aren't going to do it?" Her eye held a muted shock, and I didn't appreciate it. Who was she to judge me?

I shook my head, dusting off my hands, as I walked steadily back towards the main village, my back turned to the carnage in the pasture, that ghost of the place where I used to nap in the crags of the butte on sunny afternoons after herding the goats or ploughing the fields. I had to get out of here. "No," I told her harshly. "We have more pieces to find and I can't stand being here anymore. We're in a hurry, aren't we? Isn't Link in some sort of mortal peril or something?"

"Link, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"Regardless," I snapped, "_I_ mean it like that, so we're going to leave. I'm going to salvage whatever I can from my house, and I am going to take Arden and ride out of here. The villagers can handle it from here."

For a split second Midna looked angry with me – and then her expression softened, and the Triforce pulsed again. "Zelda says it will break his heart, and I agree."

Irritably I shrugged, "Then she should say it to my face, because I don't freaking agree. You both are full of bullshit and I don't want to hear your advice anymore because I am riding out of here within the next ten minutes and I am never coming back. I can't say goodbye now, not after that. Not only did I murder an entire detachment, but I just saw a couple dead kids in the bottom of a bloody wagon, and you want me-"

"_I_ don't want you to do anything," sniffed Midna from my shadow. "I just think you're making a mistake, that's all."

"You just think I'm making a mistake," I tossed at her in the same simpering voice. "Well excuse me for being human for once, and not the mass-murdering lunatic we've all come to know and love." She actually looked kind of offended, what with the way she'd narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. My steady strides, however, had taken me into the heart of the village, to my very own destroyed doorway. Someone had set the door alight, if the severe charring around the frame was any indication.

_What a glorious homecoming present._

I did a quick sweep of the wreckage, taking only the undamaged clothes that had been strewn across the floor. Stuffing them hurriedly into my belt, I made a beeline for where Arden stood stamping and tossing his head by the fence. Midna muttered something nasty, but by the time I had reached my horse, she was the least of my worries. I could hear movement nearby, and crying and wailing and something that sounded like prayers; I had to hurry if I wanted to depart undetected. Ren's voice echoed clearly over the angst-stricken villagers.

"You had to have known he wouldn't listen," Midna grumbled quietly. I stepped a little heavier than necessary on my shadow, scowling dangerously. With a single fluid motion, I mounted. "He's just a little boy-"

"You are _not_ talking me out of this."

"Oh sure, play Mr. Tough Guy. It solves all your problems."

Keaton shouted something at me. Without turning, I replied that I need to check on something, and that he should evacuate the place as soon as possible. And then I vaulted the splintered gate and urged my horse to a dead sprint into the Field.


	17. all these things that i've done

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: All These Things That I've Done by The Killers.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I abhorred myself. The first conscious thought I had, the very first one that I put considerable emotional effort into – and it was that I completely and utterly despised myself. Normal people did not go from being harmless ranch-hands to mass-murderers in a matter of days. I'd been fully aware of everything, but that knowledge didn't keep me from drawing the bowstring. I'd murdered an entire detachment of Hyrulean soldiers, plus the three or four from the initial flight out of the village; I'd murdered over fifty men – Hyrulean _men_, Hylians and humans, not brainless _monsters_ – and very dramatically slit Desn's throat. I knew I still had his arterial spray plastered across my face and clothes, and yet, it only just bothered me now. Now, after I'd abandoned my brother and the decimated village and those bodies... all those corpses. And what the hell was I worried about instead? Great Din, only goddesses knew, b because I sure as hell had no clue what I was doing, and the awful realization finally sunk in as Arden thundered past the trailhead.

I wanted to avenge all of this: the village and my brother and Talo. I wanted to make Dragmire pay for ruining my life. _Someone_ had to be made responsible; Dragmire and Zant, a doomed partnership of some sort – they had to be the answer to this craziness. The blurred image of the Zora head rolled back into my thoughts, and suddenly it made sense: goddesses-damned politics were taking Hyrule by storm, and we were all caught in the effing middle of it. I felt like I was drowning, and maybe I was. Desn had put in a 'good word' or whatever for me, which could only mean trouble. Once word of the murders spread back to the capital, would Dragmire send more men to wipe out Ordon? If they all died now, it would entirely be my fault. Had I just sentenced my own neighbours to death by saving them? Great goddesses, but what had I done? What was I supposed to do?

Midna gasped in surprise when I jerked to a halt, nearly throwing myself from the saddle. "What is the _matter _with you?" she hissed, but I'd frozen, stuck somewhere between where I had been going and somewhere I thought I should be going, just standing there on a patch of trampled grass. Something like liquid fire hammered through my veins and I felt unspeakably sick, folding gently until my knees hit the rain-slicked grass and I held my pounding head in icy hands. _When had the rain started? Why is it always freaking raining?_

"Link-"

"Just stop. We're-we're stopping." Arden, as if on cue, meandered over to a convenient outcropping, one that looked suspiciously familiar. I didn't care. I followed sluggishly, my clothes soaked through with clean rainwater and an old man's lifeblood, and clumsily extracted the now-damp pieces of spare clothing I'd taken from the house. _You and your goddesses-damned drama. Tumble off the horse and eat your heart out, why don't you._ Thoughts came in a constant stream from my traitorous subconscious; I'd folded myself against the rock wall, hugging my knees and trying desperately not to look at my sword.

What the hell was wrong with me? What the _hell_. Maybe this was just the adrenaline wearing off, but goddesses-damn it, this effing _hurt_. This _hurt_: this bodily crashing back down to reality, to where the twilight met the human in me, in my blood, in my soul. I could almost feel the burning sting of that division, that smudged line that made my head throb with the confusion of it all. Like the woman had said, if I'd simply stayed and faced the trial like a man, this wouldn't have happened. If I had died then, this wouldn't have happened. If Midna had just killed me in the Field when she had the chance, none of this would've happened.

Leaning back against the wall, I let the dampness seep through the burnt holes of a hastily-applied jerkin. The coolness felt anything but reassuring, and my gaze kept straying to the bloodied sheath of a weapon I was terrified to so much as glace at. The pungent scent of rainwater and the metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils until I could practically taste a mixture of the two on my tongue. I didn't understand this; where had this bottomless feeling come from? And these terrible implications-_You know what you're implying_. To some degree, I guessed. But why would that thought ever cross my mind? I had Link, Renado – I had the whole freaking country relying on me, according to a dead chief in a smoking house. I wanted to do so much more, but this despair- I'd never felt so lost and hopeless in my life, not even after Ilia died. _Someone make it stop. Make it stop!_

"Midna." She materialised instantly, though I knew that she'd been lurking nervously since I'd settled against the outcrop. I looked at her, one solid stare, one that mined any former expression on her face until all that was left was fear. "Midna take this away from me."

"What do you mean, take-"

"Take it," I ground out through clenched teeth, "before I do something stupid."

She stared. "Link…"

I shook my head and shoved the sheathed blade at her, tossing with it a small dagger I'd found in a belt compartment. The gauntlet straps were digging into my arms, and I removed them too. Honestly, it should have disturbed me at least a little when I realised that my arm had solidified enough for me to remove previously-indistinguishable garments. The gauntlet's straps were a bit loose, but there were no other defects, aside from the one being a smoky grey instead of a worn brown. "Don't 'Link' me. Take them; don't give them back unless there's an attack. I mean it, Midna."

Bewildered but still willing to comply with the strange request, she hid them with twilight, though she refused to relinquish the interrogation. "Is there something you want to talk about?" She eyed me suspiciously, her gaze tracing my movements as I rubbed life back into my forearms. "What's going on with you?"

"Midna, can we be frank here?" I snapped at her. "Does it freaking _look_ like I know what's going on with me? Does it _look_ like I'm on top of everything?"

Midna jerked backwards, her eye still narrowed. "Well-"

"Ugh, shut up. Shut up." And I turned away from her, finally, clutching my stomach. She always managed to hit me with some ridiculous cross-examination, right when I felt at my worst. I felt awful, physically as well as emotionally. My head was a leaden weight, my eyes refused to remain open; and then there was that damn roaring, that constant ringing crescendo that had descended over my ears and held any conscious thought hostage.

She shook me, but I could barely feel it. There was light everywhere, mixing with grey, twirling with black, until I couldn't tell where the boundaries fell anymore. Everything had a movement of its own, a shaking, shivering, upward shift with a deadening silence all its own. I felt myself reach out blindly, and I grasped the pulsing Triforce on Midna's hand. The contact sent me reeling again, spinning away into oblivion, until I could barely detect the involuntary breathing pattern and the flickering of my own heart.

x

I found myself batting at something, painfully blinded by early-morning sunlight, as something _bit_ me. "Gerroff…" Something twittered nearby; something else cawed harshly, and distantly, I could make out the sounds of water trickling into a crevice, and crickets singing softly in patches of grass. This wasn't the greatest way to start my day.

"Get up."

"Din, Midna, can't you go away for even- OW! Stop that!" Scrambling backwards, I glared at her disbelievingly, sneaking annoyed glances at my punctured arm. "What the hell do you think you're _doing_? You just _bit_ me."

"What else was I supposed to do? You were sleeping," she snapped at me. Forcing a stream of air through an angry frown, she pointed to the entrance of the thicket we were currently resting in. "People are coming." She made to toss me my sword, but I wasn't exactly keen on taking it, instead staring warily at her as she dug around in her magical cubbyhole; after the episode a few days ago, I'd woken to Midna's rant about going into Castletown for supplies or reconnaissance or something. Since setting foot on the trail to town, the only weapon I'd dared to touch was my bow – and even then, I couldn't stand to don and properly tighten my once-treasured, now-suffocating gauntlets. Midna silently acknowledged the hesitation and ceased her search with a scowl. "You need to get over yourself, kid."

"_I_ need to get over myself? You just bit me! You couldn't think of a better way to tell me?" I hissed at her, clumsily readjusting my hat and cinching my shoulder strap so the sheath wouldn't rattle. Her attitude had once again taken a nose dive, so I shut up and glared expectantly. "What direction?"

"From town," she whispered back. I watched her dissolve into a silky pool, though her eye remained bright and alert, her form clearly evident in the mess of shadows littering the clearing. "It's a large company – probably more troops. Hang on-"

But she needn't have moved, since the company came crashing by just a few feet away, on the other side of the brambles, each member young, mounted, and clothed in the Imperial uniform. It looked like a small cavalry unit, and by their general direction and pace, I determined that the lot of them were headed for Zora's Domain – and quickly. The group of ten or twenty passed by within a few seconds; neither of us sensed more coming, so we cautiously edged our way out of the hedge onto the main field to stare at the dust clouds.

"I wonder what that was about."

"Considering Ordon, I think I've got a pretty good idea," I replied grimly, reaching for gauntlets that weren't there. Something within me encouraged again the familiar conjuration of melancholy. With a light shiver, I whistled sharply for Arden, swinging easily into the saddle as Midna attempted to vanish silently into my hat. She didn't quite make it; half-obscured by my hair, I could see her peering at me quizzically. "What now?"

She pointed, nearly taking out my eye. "You can't wear that."

"…Wear what?"

"The hat."

I looked at her blankly and narrowed my eyes. She wanted my hat? What the hell, no. It was mine; we'd established this multiple times- "No! Hell no-" Beneath me, Arden whickered obnoxiously, kicking into an easy canter. "Don't you start with me," I snapped at him.

"Ganondorf will recognise the hat at first glance."

My glare didn't soften. "Won't he be in that castle? What makes you think-"

"He sent Zant," she said sharply. "He knows about you, he knows about me, and he sure as hell knows about Link. Take the damn hat off."

"Din, Midna!" Sweeping it off my head, I thrust it into her outstretched shadow of a hand. "You better not lose it! I swear to Farore-"

"Can it. Just get us there by nightfall, will you?"

I felt the colour rising in my cheeks, heating my skin despite the chill of the wind. _No, goddesses-damn it, I won't can it._ "Yeah, that's right, sit there and effing order me around – you know how much I appreciate that-" When she shoved her face in mine, I jerked backwards slightly, cross-eyed, and fell silent. Midna didn't look angry; nor did she look accusatory or annoyed or murderous. If anything, since her expression bordered on unreadable, she bore something akin to puzzlement and sadness. I felt like strangling her. "What the hell are you looking at?"

"A better question is, What the hell _aren't _I looking at?" she rephrased smugly, settling onto the saddle horn and levelling her gaze with mine. "I understand you're going through a tough time right now, and that the twilight isn't making anything any easier- no, Link, look at me." And she grasped my chin, though I immediately diverted my eyes. "We need to talk. Now. I can't work with someone I can't trust completely."

I opened my mouth, thought better of it, and shrugged. Midna did not appear amused, and tried again. It vaguely registered that Arden's pace had slowed, and his ears were perked as if anticipating some juicy gossip.

"You scared us the other night-"

"Yeah, well, I scared me too."

"Link-" She fixed me with a firm glare. "-just listen. We don't want you to hurt yourself. We know it's difficult, but you have to tell me if something's that wrong. Just throwing your sword at me and ranting hysterically doesn't cut it – I didn't want to leave you alone after that. We had difficulty reviving you. …Zelda thinks-"

"Zelda this, Zelda that," I retorted rudely. "If she's so damn concerned, where the hell has she been? Is this all just a game or something? Is she bored already?"

Midna's eyes narrowed instantly. "She's a Light-Dweller. You're a combination of light and shadow, and to add Zelda to that would kill you. She is protecting you, so stop being so damn selfish and think about the whole picture for once."

I ducked my head a little as I felt the blush creeping up my neck. I hadn't felt her in full since the accident, it was true; and recently, when the malaise would abate, I could catch fleeting glimpses of what might have been her essence, but nothing definite. Her explanation made sense. "Sorry," I mumbled softly. "Sorry, I-" I felt ready; I was on the verge of something important, of an admission that could lessen this weight, this stranglehold that had pervaded my every movement since regaining consciousness that night. It hurt to hide it – like I was breaking down again inside while whatever had invaded my chest burnt a steady hole right through me. I swallowed. Then unexpectedly, something tightened in my chest and I shut down: this wasn't something I wanted to discuss. I couldn't, and I wouldn't. Telling myself that it was the twilight would suffice; I didn't need consolation. I didn't need confrontation. And when if I managed to ride it out, I'd be rewarded with Zelda's reassuring light.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Midna sighed heavily and disappeared. "Take the trail; I can see the turrets."


	18. middle of nothing

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Middle of Nothing by Christopher Jak.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Castletown was dead. We arrived sometime before daybreak, since we'd been forced to shelter temporarily in a cave due to another heavy downpour. When we emerged again into the Field, Midna had snapped something angrily about sleeping all day and wasting time, forcing Arden into a gallop across the sodden grass and eventually through thick mud. The rain hadn't let up since we'd left Ordon, rendering the back trails we'd been using virtually impassable due to their being low-lying and close-to-forgotten. Sure, I could urge the horse through the thick mud and brambles, but he only tired himself out and then Midna would growl something irritating and I'd fall asleep in the saddle again, until Arden stumbled and I fell off. And after the initial encounter that had forced us onto the main Castletown path, I had no desire to further ruin my new tunic, or to have my head bitten off by an imp.

For once, my mouth had remained shut for most of the day while Midna kept muttering, "She won't be in," and, "They won't be there." It was a little disconcerting. I wanted to ask her just who wouldn't be in or who wouldn't be there, but she had an awful burning, nervous look in her eye that she frequently turned on me. As far as I knew, the twilight was under control again – meaning, Midna's magic controlled the spread so that the rate of conversion slowed considerably. But with the way she kept looking at me and muttering, I suspected something had gone wrong somewhere, and that we were running out of time.

Up ahead, the main gate loomed into view through the heavy fog. A light rain still fell, coating everything with a fine sheen of moisture and cloaking our approach as we veered off the path and hugged the rocky hillside that surrounded the area. This would be my first foray into the city, but the conditions were less than ideal: rather than a wide-eyed tourist, I would be arriving as a wary-eyed fugitive. This was also probably the dumbest thing I could possibly do as said fugitive. I apparently posed such a threat that an entire detachment had run off to the southernmost province of the entire country, just to find and eliminate me – and now, I would waltz right through the front door of the capital city, somewhere within which lurked the mysterious Ganondorf Dragmire, whom I held fully accountable for damn near everything. Coming here went against common sense; I'd "found" Zelda, so why should I bother going to the one place with the heaviest concentration of troops? But hey, if Midna intended to defy logic so blatantly, I assumed she had a plan. Which, coincidentally, went into effect as soon as I reined in Arden by a large oak.

Stealing a glance at the drawbridge up ahead, she harried me out of the saddle and sucked in a steadying breath: "I need you… to listen to me, okay?" I gazed back at her quietly, unwaveringly. "There are guards posted at the gate – more than I expected… I can't have you running in there and turning the place into a bloodbath - not this close to the castle. We have to enter as shadows-"

"Midna, I'm only partially twilight!" I hissed at her, eyes wide and disbelieving. She couldn't expect me to actually make it across… there was too wide a stretch, and goddesses-knew if I could take the exposure after the recent episode. "Are you out of your mind?"

She sighed impatiently and pointed at the dimly lit entrance. "This is our only way in. We'll slip in under the door so the torches' flickering will hide our movement. I have to get a map from Telma, and check in with the old Resistance crew. We need all the allies we can get."

"Din." I swore under my breath again, just loud enough for Midna to hear clearly. "What do I have to do?"

Palm up, she reached towards me with an earnest half-smile steeped in anxiety. "Hold on. Whatever happens, don't let go."

_Don't let go_. This was going to be easier said than done, I could tell. I grasped her hand tightly, shut my eyes, and felt myself suddenly transcend the familiar world. The sensation wasn't nearly as foreign as the first time, when I'd been dragged through an underwater corridor back in the Lakebed Temple. _Surprise, surprise, you half-breed, you._ Opening my eyes a little and willing myself to relax despite the tendrils of fear and fatigue, I watched, startled, as Midna ferried us through the shadows of the grassy area directly in front of the drawbridge. She paused momentarily on the steps to glance back at me – which was when I determined that she had better hurry, because, judging by the severe aching splintering through my arm and chest, I was fading fast from the experience. Midna hesitated another second, caught the sudden cinching of my expression, and plunged into the velvety shadows of the bridge. Within another minute, we had slipped beneath the gate, around a corner, and into a secluded alleyway; the second she released me, she materialised with a soft hand clamped over my mouth.

Everything crashed back into real time the moment my boots hit the damp cobbles: the intense burning sensation returned full force, assaulting the transformed flesh of my twilit arm, slowly and painfully inching along my collarbone and across my shoulder blades. Something wet brushed my nose as I struggled silently with her, convulsing, shivering, dying – but it wouldn't fade. The terrible throbbing elicited a low moan from between her tiny fingers, and in my hazy panic, I realised she was crying again.

"I need you to calm down, Link," murmured Midna. "I need you to focus on anything but your arm; I know it hurts… Zelda is going to try and help. I'm going to let go of you now, okay? Don't cry out-"

Her hands retreated, and I crumpled inward, tucking my arm out of harm's way, panting and moaning and trying desperately to stifle the sound. "Din," I gasped repeatedly. "Farore, Nayru, _Din_." The back of Midna's hand flashed once in the gloomy alley, the pain abating only slightly in the Triforce's presence, but becoming instantly more manageable. I felt sick and sweaty and shaky, and when Midna grasped me around the waist and led me into the street, I didn't have time to wonder how the hell she did it.

From the brief glimpse I'd gotten just before we materialised in the alley, I'd seen a cluster of stone and wood buildings on either side of the street that led into a main square with a fountain. The fog wasn't as intense here, probably due to the proximity of the structures and the surrounding wall. I shut my eyes when she stepped into the street, concentrating spectacularly on not fainting. We walked for what seemed like an eternity, first taking a right and then a gentle left and the occasional detour. Most of it passed by in a blur; I didn't hear anything aside from our own unsteady movements and what might have been a mewling cat nearby. By the time we stumbled into a stairwell and discovered a boarded-up door, I realised with a sickening lurch that she'd taken on the form of a lean, blue-eyed blond. The man slammed an unnaturally white hand against a storm grate set into the wall, cursed angrily at his luck, at the fine mist soaking the air, and for the longest stretch yet, I stared at him with watery eyes and blurry vision.

Then he opened his mouth to speak, but it took me a minute and a couple reiterations on his part for me to understand that this person was uttering words that I could understand. "Link. I need to find her first, do you hear me? I need to find her, and then we'll see what we can do about- Din, but don't tell me you're going to-"

Without warning, a fresh wave of nausea hit. I gritted my teeth as I doubled over into the darkened corner, all thoughts of the identity of 'her' forgotten. It seemed lighter somehow; was the sun rising? "Dad, I… I need to lie down. Where did-"

He swore vehemently, spun on his heel, and shoved me gently. "C'mon, then. I have to find her, then hopefully she'll let us have a room."

A handful of people peered at us curiously, but Colin simply waved them away; if any stood around too long, he explained that his moronic son had had a few too many shots. But I couldn't ever remember him calling me moronic, even after I almost drowned in the spring. And even in my state of pain-induced confusion, other things weren't adding up, like the way he walked and talked and- Where had Midna gone? The next time I risked opening my eyes, I saw that we'd entered a seedier section that included several rundown businesses bearing faded wooden signs. Having apparently caught sight of his target, Colin jerked his head at a weathered door and pushed me, swaying dangerously, inside.

"The sign says closed," the woman at the bar stated flatly as soon as we entered, not even gracing us with a glance. If I hadn't felt so light-headed, I might have blushed at the sight of her: middle-aged, careworn lines, ample bosom, and wary gaze. Colin guided me into a seat at the empty bar, I put my head down, shut my mouth, and listened, half-in and half-out of consciousness. The heavy fumes from the alcohol did nothing at all for the sick, sweaty feeling that filled me up and hollowed me out simultaneously. If he didn't hurry up whatever conversation they were having, I'd be involuntarily sleeping on the floorboards.

"Telma." He sounded more anxious than the night Ilia died, and I could tell from the direction of his voice that he was looking at me. Why did that name sound so familiar? "Help him, please."

The bartender paused, then in whispered shock: "Colin? Honey, is that you?"

"Telma, we need help." I picked up on the desperation lacing his words and thought vaguely that it was all my doing. Someone inhaled sharply. I wanted to apologise. "This is Link-" Shuffling, a gasp.

"Honey, that is _not _Link."

More desperation: "This is my son Link."

"Your son..." The bartended seemed lost. Then, with more conviction: "You haven't replied to any of my recent letters. Where is Renado?" From my position, I grunted amidst the confusion racking my brain, and the next thing I knew, the woman had slapped a glass of something down in front of me. But something had clicked in my head at the mention of Ren's name. "Colin, where's Renado? And what happened to this one, honey? He's whiter 'n a sheet -"

"He's- That's not my father," I gasped, drunkenly raising my head to point at the blurry figure next to me. "That's not... Colin's d-dead, I- M-Midna?" My eyes slipped shut again; someone whispered something, and I realised that I must have fainted because cold wood pressed against my cheek, and a warm hand had slid beneath my shoulders.

A pained cough came from somewhere above. "No, I'm absolutely certain... Please, is there somewhere he can lie down?"

"Are you sure you gave him the right one? He's completely out of it!"

"Luda gave it to us-"

Someone's hands pushed me sideways until they found purchase beneath my back and knees. When I flinched uncomfortably at the contact, the someone tut-tutted and whispered something meant to be encouraging, but I failed to catch it with my head lolling awkwardly onto a shoulder. Another someone sighed heavily. Their conversation flowed in and out, fuzzy and fading, until a bright light illuminated the backs of my eyelids. Then there was a blanket behind me, and it was dark again, the shadows engulfing us, whispers, someone close. I recognised Midna's pained laugh, a shrill, awful sound that almost cut through the lethargic fog.

"Oh, Link," she was murmuring somewhere close by, "we're coming." But I didn't know which of us she was addressing.

x

"-and left you. What's he think, that this is some sort of infirmary? And Snowpeak of all places. If that boy doesn't freeze to death, well, the minute he gets back that boy's gettin' more'n a little piece of my mind, that irresponsible- You're awake!" Her shout startled me enough that I flinched, eyes wide and irritatingly slow to focus on the intimidating figure towering over me. In a flurry of movement, she leaned in close, grasping the front of my tunic with one hand, and pressing the other against my forehead, all the while muttering, "How are you feelin', honey? Your father left in a rush a few days ago; hasn't been back since and here I was, thinkin' you'd never wake up again. He said you'd been poisoned, and then-"

"Telma, Colin's dead," I started. I sounded horrible, but she was smothering me and I didn't understand what she was talking about and I had this awful feeling that I'd been abandoned again and I couldn't take it any longer. In no way could I sense Zelda – but when I happened to glance at the surrounding room, I recognised the familiar glimmer. We were in a second-storey bedroom with a dusty bookcase directly across from the bed, and corner windows to the left of the shelves. In another corner stood a low bureau and a wardrobe empty except for two hangers and a broken lantern. On the bedside table burnt a candle that threw a spectacular shadow against the wall, revealing Midna's hiding place. She vehemently shook her head at me, but the words were already out. Maybe if I could convince her that she'd seen a ghost, this would all go away. Recovering, I finished, "Telma, he died months ago in a raid. I-I came alone from Ordon, where I was attacked-"

That stopped her in her tracks. She pulled away from me, suddenly back on her feet, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That... Boy, the hell you were alone. Colin was _here_, in my bar-"

I pushed myself off the pillows and turned to face her, carefully swinging my legs off the bed but not yet venturing to place them on the floor. "Colin's _dead_."

"Who are you?" The demand caught me off guard. "Who are you, and who was that if it wasn't Colin? What in Din's name is going on here?" At the last question, she wrapped my upper arm in a vice, her fingers moving towards the twilit bandages. She must have caught my look of horror as I caught sight of the mottled grey skin, because she shook me, her tone furious. "Did that imposter do this to you?"

I stared at her for a minute, bewildered... until I realised that she thought it was a bruise. She thought I'd been beaten, and that was the source of the discolouration – and not some crazy magic from another world. "I-I don't know! I'm Link, but I, I most definitely came alone from Ordon. There was a massacre and I ran, but I- The last thing I remember is falling off my horse just outside the gate, maybe?" I hated that I was essentially trying to sell her a hastily concocted story, but nevertheless lent my words the most desperate confusion I could summon.

Gasping, Telma pulled away again. "A massacre? Honey, what happened?"

"The counsellor returned with a detachment of troops and he... he had most of the villagers killed, all because-" What started out as an act quickly turned a little too serious. I found tears welling but refusing to fall, and an unfamiliar heat blazing beneath my skin. Oh, half-truths. It had to be a twilight thing. "I refused the citizenship test and he- I hid Renado with the others. The soldiers attacked me. I rode for Castletown to report what had happened, but I don't remember anything past riding over the final bridge here. I- But I know I was alone. Colin-"

Telma sat down next to me, her hands folded harmlessly in her lap this time. "Well," she began quietly, "I reckon that explains the unanswered letters. You're his and Ilia's boy, then? Link?" She tapped the side of her nose knowingly, nodding. "It's been a while since we last met." Then her brows cinched and I knew it was coming. "But I don't understand. Your father was _here_. He picked you up and brought you upstairs- He was _here._"

I just shook my head. "He died. He's buried next to Ilia in the Ordon cemetery. I can't explain it, but he's absolutely dead. I dug the grave myself." At this point, I found myself unable to maintain eye contact. I fervently hoped that it translated as being upset or uncomfortable or something since I couldn't rip my eyes from Midna. She'd migrated to the floor in an attempt to urgently sign something at me. I hated charades. Even in the right circumstances I didn't have the patience for them, and now, with this barmaid looking at me with _pity_ of all things, I couldn't concentrate.

A definitive silence descended, during which time Telma decided to drape her arm across my shoulders. My mother had mentioned her name more than once when sharing her childhood adventures, and because of that, I knew that I owed this woman more than just a few days' room and board and general gratitude. It wouldn't be easy slipping out of here, especially since my ghost implication was admittedly pretty pathetic. Midna must have taken on Colin's form to lie her way inside – hell, she'd even carried me up the goddesses-damned stairs. People couldn't just hallucinate that; my body didn't just float to a second-story room all of its own accord. But maybe if I was lucky, she'd be particularly superstitious or religious or-

"You've got somethin' lookin' out for you, kiddo, that much is true," she said contemplatively. "Somethin' happened that night. And maybe you know a little more 'n you're tellin' me, but whatever the case, I'm sure it'll reveal itself when the time's right. Whoever or whatever it was set off for Snowpeak." That was definitely Midna then. And if I knew her at all, mentioning our next stop to Telma had to be a clue of some sort. The barmaid's eyes found me, questioning, intense. "I reckon you'll be followin' after it?"

I returned the scrutiny. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I'll have to if I want answers."

A tiny, sad smile lit her face and she nudged me off the mattress and onto my feet. "Just like your namesake. C'mon then, let's get some food into you, honey. You must be starvin'."

x x

This morning, the fourth morning after the night of our arrival and the day after my heart-to-heart with Telma, found me considerably less ill – still pale and achy, but I could live with that, as opposed to the debilitating malaise and endless fatigue. The barmaid hadn't let me go without a decent verbal struggle; in the end, she'd simply compared me to Link about ten times as her way of justifying my determination to find Colin's 'ghost' at Snowpeak. She hadn't exactly been shy about giving her opinion of the place, either.

"Honey, that place is a frozen wasteland. You'll just freeze to death up there, and I owe it to your mother to at least attempt to talk you out of this insanity," she'd insisted. Our final confrontation had occurred in the doorway of her bar with the breakfast regulars clustered in the far corner. Eyes narrowed again, she'd grasped my good shoulder and squeezed, even as I'd stood there holding a borrowed old jacket stuffed with a small package of rations and the moth-bitten maps to an aptly named mountain. "Link, don't feel pressured into bein' somethin' you're not."

The wording still flashed through my thoughts, but I couldn't hold it against her. I'd just have to show her at some point, and maybe actually fulfil the promises I'd made about returning for a visit, possibly with my brother in tow. Until then, Midna and I had work to do, which, as always, included more than a little complaint on my part. After Telma had fed me and sent me back up to bed for the night, I'd realised that the 'beating' assumption hadn't been a trick of the light: _someone_ had given me a shiner, as well as a spectacularly bruised cheek. And now that speaking aloud to my shadow wasn't an issue, commented dryly, "Thanks for the eye."

Midna didn't respond. Not that I really expected her to, given the delicate situation of crawling through a sewer, but whatever. I'd unfortunately attracted the wrong type of attention when a bored guard called me on the sword strapped to my back. Thus began a city-wide manhunt for little old murderous me, with my apparently contraband weapon. It hadn't even been in my hand, let alone chopping someone's head off or something, but no, the goddesses-damned Hyrule Imperial Army had decided to mobilise all nearby units just to apprehend me. And we both knew that couldn't happen, because then someone would find out who I was and then I'd be dead and Midna would have to find another pet and that just wouldn't do.

So, she'd directed me to the old tavern, yanked me through the boards despite the close call with shadowy doom just days earlier, and here we were, tramping through the sewers, or "passageways" as she preferred to call them, in an attempt to escape the city unnoticed. The subterranean tunnels were largely unkempt from what I'd seen as I followed quietly behind her. They mostly consisted of heavy stone blocks liberally coated with slime and cobwebs; empty torch brackets lined the narrow walls. Despite being considerably danker, the stagnant quality of the air brought back unpleasant memories of the Arbiter's Grounds, enough of a reminder that I found myself tugging obsessively at my collar. I really disliked stuffy, dark spaces – even if I could technically see, negating the traditional problem with the absence of light.

Clearing my throat, I tried again: "So, what exactly is Snowpeak and why are we going there?"

She actually coughed this time. "Well," she began cautiously, "for years there have been reports of problems in the area, of something hunting Zoras..."

"That sounds really promising, Midna. I love hunting predators."

"Oh, cut it out, will you? You and I both know you're only too willing to hunt down your father's ghost."

"Nice. Really. I had so much fun trying to explain that," I retorted. "But I'll forgive you because that's what friends are supposed to do." What might have been a snort echoed in the passage. "There's no use in denying it now," I continued. "I mean, we're stuck with each other, especially since I'm part twilight now or whatever. I just hope it turns useful at-"

Her hug took me completely by surprise. I almost jerked away at the sudden contact, but instead forced myself to remain absolutely still, unsure how to respond. But she simply drifted away a few seconds later, her eye soft and content when it caught my gaze. "That was from Zelda. When you stop fighting the twilight and allow it to settle, you'll be able to sense her again; she doesn't want to overwhelm you."

I stared. Then, uncertain as always, I ducked my head. "That's um. That's reassuring. Thanks?"

A grin lit her face, giving it a terribly mischievous quality by the way that one fang peeked out. "Mmm. C'mon then, we've got a hero to rescue. I can see daylight up ahead."


	19. viva la vida

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Viva La Vida by Coldplay.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"It's cold."

"No shit, Midna." Glaring, she tossed a tiny snowball at my head, landing the hit with a muffled _whump_. I brushed the powder off of my hat and sent her a half-hearted glare of my own as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. "You're just making it worse."

"It's cold," she insisted again, the crimson of her eye smouldering in the deep charcoal of her face. "Link. I want a pocket."

"If it's so cold, what the hell are we doing here?"

I felt her snuggle up against my sleeve; then: "We'll manage."

"Actually, I just figured we'd find a nice snowdrift to die in," I snapped at her, unconsciously wrapping and rewrapping the bindings around my hands. Goddesses, but this little rest stop was turning into one of the most awkward situations ever, and the fact that it was our first break since starting the long trek made everything even bleaker especially since at first, I'd held the map upside down and we'd ended up on the wrong trail that led to a massive sheet of ice and a broken snowshoe. We'd been forced to backtrack at least half a league to the trailhead, assaulted the entire way by intense flurries and snow wolves, of all things. Once we actually found the right path, an hour of trudging through deep snow found us trapped in an icy cave, into which I'd had to burrow my way with my sheath. My sheath did not double as a shovel – hence the necessity of a well-placed bomb that only served to shower us with loose powder and chunks of ice. Similarly, cloth strips torn from a bloody old tunic did not double as gloves and only failed miserably in preventing frostbite. Consequently, digging through at least my height in wet snow left my fingers raw and my spirits low, and being stuck in an underground icebox did nothing to improve my mood.

"Link." I doggedly ignored her by shutting my eyes and pulling the coat around my shoulders. But she kept at it, whining incessantly into my ear, "_Link_. I let you take your nap; now I want a pocket!"

"Fine!" Unbuttoning the front, I held open an inner pocket as she melded with the shadows there. "Goddesses, first the desert and now this? You pick the worst possible places for these stupid adventures."

Midna just snuggled deeper into my side, apparently too occupied with her new source of warmth to offer a reply. But she was right, she had let me sleep after the exhausting trek here, and now that my eyelids weren't constantly drooping, I had to move on. Joy. Sure, when I was a kid I'd told Colin that I wanted to see the country, but this was not how I pictured it. Shaking my head, I stumbled to my feet, groaning and cracking every crackable joint I could to ease the stiffness from the cold. I was essentially standing in a pocket carved from the mountainside; the walls must have formed when melting snow froze as it dripped from the overhanging rock. Someone had obviously taken advantage of this by building a doorway and adding a ladder that stretched into silver-tinted darkness of the upper-level slope, just as we'd observed upon our arrival. I moved towards it with numb feet, snowshoes awkwardly strapped beneath my shield.

"So am I supposed to be looking for anything specific?"

"Mmm," came the muffled response. I rolled my eyes. She would fall asleep just as the action began.

Grumbling quietly, I scaled the rungs until I came face to face with a Zora in full guard regalia. A _frozen_ Zora guard. With the way his arms were held up in front of his face, it appeared as though he had been attempted to defend himself from something on the other side of the ajar wooden door. An icy blast must have erupted through the space, caking the Zora as well as the door in place with thick sheets of ice. Because of the ice, what little light escaped from the outside arrived severely distorted. Coincidentally, it also prevented any chances of opening the effing door, so I automatically assumed that some ridiculous means of transportation would be in order. I could barely contain my excitement.

I bent closer to the frozen mass, poking at the base with the tip of my sword. The metal _chink_ed loudly when it touched the ice, but nothing gave. Hacking through it wouldn't be an option. The poor bastard was still trapped, and I was still standing on this side, the unexciting side, bewildered and very much near frozen myself. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Melt the damn thing with fire out of my eyes? I instantly thought of the fish in the Ordon pond that would freeze in the winter and reanimate after the spring thaw. How closely related were Zora and fish anyway?

As always, I took my annoyance out on Midna. "When you said there was an exit up here, I kinda figured that it was, you know, _functional_."

Darting fluidly out of my jacket, Midna rested a hand on her hip and glanced coolly at the immobile figure. "Well, so did I. I was tired when I checked, and I only glanced. Bite me."

"Would you really want that?" I sneered at her, grinning maliciously. She turned her head, apparently disgusted by the prospect. "I mean, I had wondered about the existence and engineering of this place, but come on, Midna. What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

It actually looked like she was thinking hard as she floated there, shivering slightly in the frosty air despite her transience. I felt even colder just looking at her, but when that damn apologetic smile split her face, I realised that "thinking hard" and "Midna" should never ever belong in the same sentence, and that cold feeling instantly succumbed to dread.

"I need another favour..."

I looked at her. "Don't you remember the last time we tried that? I was out for days and- …Oh shit, I'm not going to like this, am I?" Midna's smile stretched taut over her fangs until the tips were bared. "You want us to go through the effing ice."

Innocently, she patted the offending hunk and pretended not to wince. "Well, it's an idea, isn't it?"

"Except that I'm not like you – just my arm is." I shook my bandaged arm in her face for emphasis, but she only grasped my forearm in an iron grip.

"Arguable. You just have to work with me," she replied earnestly. "Just think fluid – like the ice isn't even there, and you'll be fine. We've done it before. You've adjusted a little more since then-"

"'You'll be fine, Link,'" I mumbled at her, trying to break her grip on my arm with perfunctory twists and jerks. "'Just listen to me, Link. Don't worry about any of the weird consequences, Link.'"

Midna grinned brightly at this and renewed her hold, purring, "I knew you'd agree with me." And then she sent a ripple through my body and the next thing I knew, I was lying in the snow, coughing and clutching my arm as the residual vibrations crashed through the transformed tissue, a thousand times worse than the typical pins-and-needles sensation.

As if that weren't bad enough, the deep snow here completely immobilised me. With a pained grunt, I twisted sideways until I managed to retrieve the snowshoes from under the sheath buckles. Midna flitted around my boots, helping to fasten the straps. That should have been my first clue. Instead, as pain-wracked as I was, crumpled on the ground and panting heavily with my hands tangled in worn leather, it'd dimly registered that something nasty lurked in the new vicinity. When the 'something nasty' started to cheep annoyingly, I knew that it wasn't just _a_ something, but a pack of nasty somethings, and that they were most likely those awful little ice-bats. I loved swinging blindly at screeching bats while trapped in knee-deep snow. Fantastic.

I staggered to my knees because I couldn't manoeuvre my feet, with their bulky accessories, and with gritted teeth drew my sword. The powdery snow kept blowing into my eyes and stinging the hell out of the exposed skin of my face, and my left arm kept pulsating with marrow-wrenching agony that destroyed my concentration. The shadowy wisps had clawed their way to my shoulder again, and although they hadn't solidified yet, the shock of their advance made my movements clumsy, broken snowshoe aside. I'd accidentally snapped the well-worn sole while traversing an unexpectedly rocky slope; now, this issue paled in comparison to the odds mounting against me.

Panicking, I began flailing the blade around as the bats dove for my head, my shadowy arm buried in the snow almost protectively. The bats were easy enough to handle. I could do this. If I just kept swiping my sleeve across my face and exhaling and not moving too suddenly, I could totally handle this situation; it would just take a little more patience than I had. Detaching a spare bomb from where I'd clipped it to my belt during the ice-cave fiasco, I snapped my twilit fingers over the fuse before batting it into the flock of bats overhead. Midna gasped dramatically and yanked upwards on my collar the second the bomb exploded.

"Really?" I spluttered. Unable to breathe, I shoved her hands away from me. "What are you-"

She didn't relent. Rather, I found myself being choked again. "Get on your feet-"

An orange energy field encroached on us, apparently stemming from Midna's headdress and apparently forced backwards by a pissed off group of shadow beasts. In another second, I was sure the barrier would dissipate and I'd have to somehow fend off the monsters while half-buried and oxygen-deprived. Somehow, I'd completely missed the appearance of a gaping black hole in the sky, spewing a steady stream of what had to be that tainted twilight Midna so feared. _This_ had been what she'd meant when she'd asked if I could feel it: a sickly pall that drowned the surrounding area in waves of gradually increasing intensity.

"Farore, Nayru, and _DIN!_" I swore loudly through clenched teeth, determinedly righting myself and adopting a proper fighting stance. The energy vanished. Face to face with the first of the monsters, I slashed through its chest with minimal difficulty. Nearby, four others had arranged themselves in a configuration that would be more than a little difficult. If they all stood in a line and refused to approach me, how could I possibly kill them all at once? I had no desire to deal with a full-scale resurrection. _Bastards_. Stumbling slightly on a clump of ice, I accidentally skewered a second monster – and gave the others a grand opportunity to throw a temper tantrum. My recent victims howled, rising once again, prompting me to curse profusely once again.

"What the hell, Midna! Do something!" I swept a shaking hand over the irritating scene, but the goddesses-damned shadows didn't vanish into thin air as I'd hoped. Instead they drew closer, their heads shaking and claws groping. _Shit._

Wriggling her body in front of one of the beasts, she shot me a sharp glare. "I told you not to leave one alive!"

"Yeah well, how the hell am I supposed to do that when- Ah, goddesses damn you!" I pressed a hand against a deep scratch on the side of my neck. "This is not working!"

Midna suddenly disappeared. With an exasperated grunt, I tried turning so that my back was against the wall of snow and the frozen door, but before I could even attempt to pull my feet out of their deep depressions, crackling orange magic exploded across the clearing, enveloping three of the beasts and completely immobilising them. Since I was out of bombs, I whipped out three arrows and shot them in quick succession, nailing each of them through the throat, or what should have been the throat. The last two rushed at me after a herding blast of black energy from Midna, and with a well-executed spinning move given the circumstances, I finished them off for good. Rather than exploding however, the remains vanished back into the portal in a swirl of twilit pieces; so, too, did the terrible aura vanish, leaving only a soft, comforting shine. And while I didn't feel like I'd arrived on death's doorstep yet, this cut was bleeding a little too freely and ruining my only tunic. I tugged at the collar to divert the blood flow, staunching it with the tattered remains of my last tunic, but that only served to coat my fingers in the sticky substance that, instead of bright red, more closely resembled a maroon or red-violet. Lovely.

She flitted out of my shadow when I plopped into the snow, gestured vaguely at the black hole, explaining, "Link and I can use those to teleport throughout Hyrule."

"Well, gee," I gasped at her, swallowing thickly, "that seems handy."

"Handy until we used them one too many times, and Zant intercepted us."

I might have taken the bait if the intense pain and overwhelming urge to vomit hadn't hit me right then. Shutting my eyes, I leaned back into the drift and breathed slowly through my nose – not that it really did all that much good. This apparently didn't satisfy Midna, who, just as I bent forward, clutching my stomach and cradling my arm, began squealing about some undead skeleton half-buried in the snow up ahead. Wheeling around with mounting annoyance, I snapped at her to shut the hell up and let me throw up in peace.

She didn't like that either.

"You have nothing to throw up, you stupid boy!" I felt her hands pushing against my shoulder, but I offered no resistance and allowed myself to fall sideways into the snow. Midna snorted somewhere above me, complaining under her breath. "There is a skeleton over there, and it's pretty damn important, so-"

"Midna, my arm is about to spontaneously combust," I screamed suddenly at her, my voice raw with fury, "and you are not effing helping the matter!"

Her scrutiny lasted through several painful dry heaves, but I didn't care. When I finally felt like I'd swallowed the awful swollen feeling that had invaded my chest, the first thing I did was pull my arm out of the sleeve and expose it to the frigid air. Then I glanced away, doused in cold-sweat but remarkably relieved by the numbing effect of the cold, at the wiry frame poking out of the snow near a bare tree. I had no idea how the tree had managed to grow up here in the first place, so far from the tree line below, but hey, I wasn't about to argue with the goddesses. We'd emerged onto a kind of summit, with a fantastic panoramic view of the surrounding area. Granted, everything within sight had a thick coating of snow so that the landscape just about blinded me, and the loose powder that blew every which way obscured some of the more distant features, but I couldn't argue its beauty, even with the throbbing tracing its way through my shoulder and across my collarbone.

"Better yet?"

Shrugging, I accepted her silent apology as I pulled myself to my feet and picked my way through the paths ploughed by the roaming shadow beasts. It had stopped snowing, and the biting wind had blown the powder covering askew; a hulking skeleton of some strange monster loomed out of a snowdrift, its bones still bearing worn shreds of clothing in certain places and entirely too similar to the animated corpse from the Arbiter's Grounds for this to be okay.

"I'm beginning to see a pattern here. What do you think that was?"

"I don't know." Midna threw something at me, and reflexively I caught it: the wineskin. Surprisingly, the water was still warm and sweet, but it didn't ease the queasy roiling of my stomach. I handed it back to her and drew my sword, then bent to poke at the carcass. The slightest touch sent a shiver through the blanketing snow, sending an avalanche of powder and ice shards crashing into the surrounding area from the tree's barren branches. A wicked grin stretched across my face. Midna gaped, apparently alarmed, when I tore the snowshoes from my boots and jumped aboard one of the flatter pieces. It wasn't large enough to sled on, so I stood with feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, as if this would actually work the way I imagined.

"What are you doing?"

The grin widened. "We're standing at the top of a hill covered in snow. This is my favourite part of winter right here."

She wrinkled her nose, scowling disdainfully at me. "And you're going to ride a piece of _ice_ down this slope? Look how steep it is!"

When she put it that way, it did kind of sound like an awful idea. But at the same time, the power sparkled, wholly untouched, magical in the icy sunlight. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that the only way out would be back down the mountain with nothing to show for the difficult trek. There were no trails leading away from the summit. Maybe half a league from this spot the treeline began and continued down the rest of the face; however, the path directly in front of us was the only clear shot to said treeline, since to the left and to the right jagged rocks poked through the snow. I was not about to walk down the side of a mountain. Besides, she never actually said how far we'd have to head into the mountains, either, because Snowpeak was just the first phase of the journey, like the desert had been. And given that, I planned to enjoy myself as much as possible before the real work came, with the gritty fighting and the desperate hurrying and the terrible self-doubt.

With an insolent grin, I kicked the sled into motion, and Midna let out an alarmed shriek, her hands curled into the collar of my tunic, her crazy shadow powers apparently forgotten. The speed almost set us careening out of control and into the mouth of a yawning chasm, but I found that if I leant a certain way, I could kind of control the direction of movement. By the time we'd reached the hilly area immediately before the trees, I'd decided that this really was fun – excessively deadly, and decidedly nauseating, but fun, like all good things in my experience.

"Watch out for the trunks," complained Midna. I laughed, choking a little on the cold, thin air and the ease with which we passed through it. Just to spite her, I forced us into a midair spiral over a low snow bank, and earned a startled gasp as I crashed into a landing, only just salvaging our momentum amidst the wild spray of snow.

"YOU ARE GOING TO KILL US!"

"I'm not going to kill us," I panted to her, banking sharply to the left to avoid a pile of rubble; "I could possibly seriously maim us, but I won't kill us – directly. Hang on!"

She moaned softly, and the gentle twisting of her body told me that she'd buried her face against my shoulder, her knees squeezing the sides of my ribcage in a bizarre piggy-back. I grinned wildly, almost as crazily as Midna could, and rocketed through the trees, barely avoiding numerous catastrophic collisions with heavy pine trees and low-hanging branches and hidden rocks. But almost as suddenly as the trees appeared, we soared into a clearing: just snow ahead and snow on either side, blinding and beautiful and revealing a large square black structure squatting on a rocky outcropping off to my left. I didn't have to ask to know our ultimate destination. Why else would someone build something in a place like this, if not to hide something powerful and dangerous? The only problem would be getting to the place since it jutted out on a sort of icy, rocky cliff, a natural extension of the mountain face. From what I could tell, a very vague path led away from the main slope, marked by massive icicles which might or might not have been formed around sculptures of some kind.

As we approached the apparent entrance, I clumsily guided the sled through the initial markers, only to realise that they weren't markers – someone or something had piled up enough stone to form a series of shrines on the left side of the route which, if followed, would take a hiker back up to the summit. Because the stone blocked the snow as it came down the mountain, the figures inside remained visible... and identifiable as the bodies of Zora guards, preserved by the cold. Not only that, but the markers forced dizzying turns full of jagged rocks and sheets of ice. I had a hard time keeping track of our movement because of the endless white and the speed and the crazy terrain – until we twisted a final time along a tunnel, a miniature snowdrift sent us zipping through the air, and after miscalculating the trajectory, I landed bodily with an _umph_ against cracked paving stones still in the shadow of the creepy shelters.

"I am so sledding the rest of the way down when we are done here." I stumbled upright and knocked the snow off my hat, grinning with a shining kind of malice as Midna appeared in front of me, hands on her hips, furious but decidedly green. Wonderful juxtaposition.

"You," she accused angrily, "could have killed us!"

"Could've, but I didn't, now did I?"

She shook her head at me and shuddered once. Turning, she pointed at the massive stone building crouching within easy shooting distance. Its entrance consisted of four stone pillars, two on either side of a plain staircase without railings. It seemed like a bit of a safety hazard to me, considering how the place had been built next to an effing chasm. Now that we were close enough to see it, I noticed that the foundations weren't coincidentally resting on the only stable surface, a position that essentially lent a floating quality to the structure. It almost seemed like something had hacked away at what once must have been a proper outcropping until the ultimate defensive position had been achieved: one could only approach from the main entrance. Unless one could fly.

"Just go inside before you do anything else. You are-" Still muttering obscenities about my character and its disturbing flaws, she vanished into a coat pocket like she should have done from the outset. Maybe then she wouldn't have been so traumatised. Silly Midna.

"You know, it was your own fault you held on like that," I told her matter-of-factly as I slowly climbed the stairs. Whatever sort of building this was, it exuded creepy, from the shattered friezes set above a simple wooden door that looked more like a sad afterthought than anything else. "You could've just pulled your handy little dissolving trick."

"Go. In. Side."

"Yeah, yeah-" And I raised my hand to knock, then remembered that this place shouldn't be inhabited by civilised beings, and all but shoved the warped door inwards, cringing as the bottom scraped along the flagstone floor. With more than a little despair, I recognised the intense burning of the twilit arm blasting through the cold-induced numbness. It was a matter of time before the sickness returned and the twilight advanced. More than anything I longed for the gentle reassurance of Zelda's voice. But instead of betraying the impending apprehension, I snorted at the darkened foyer while shutting the door behind me. "I'll just-"

I hadn't taken two steps into the goddesses-damned place when the entire structure trembled, and a distant rumbling shattered the icy stillness. Curiosity piqued, Midna appeared briefly as a shadow, but quickly vanished from view again, into an inner pocket this time. No comment couldn't be a good thing. I stared blankly into the chilly gloom. "What the hell have I gotten myself into now?"


	20. shimmer

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Shimmer by Fuel.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I made it into the courtyard before I had to sit down, forearm flush against the frozen tile in a sad attempt to alleviate the burning. The entire first floor had proven to be a bust; even the suits of armour had been knocked askew. Something had gone through the place like a whirlwind, upending everything it came into contact with and tearing things to shreds. In corners had been swept neat piles of frozen corpses, all Zoras from what I could tell, and all adorned in the same war attire as the shrines we'd passed on the way here. Not only that, but the main room had been devastated. The rich carpeting suffered from patches of ice and snow from a sizeable hole in the high ceiling, also resulting in massive wooden beams demolishing the grand staircases that swept from the main floor to the second storey. Essentially, I'd wasted a good few hours of my time poking through random piles of frozen shit and fighting the wild animals or monsters that had shacked up in dark corners.

Groaning quietly, I shut the door to the snowy yard and huddled instead near the cold stone wall by a long-dead hearth. Why the hell anyone thought it had been a good idea to put a freaking courtyard on a snowy mountain estate was completely beyond me. It had been a small feat in itself, the actual opening of the door in the first place – so much snow had built up against the other side that it took me _and_ Midna's ponytail to force it open. And for what? A face-full of snowflakes and a near-mauling by a one of those snow wolves. Fun times, really.

"What's wrong?" Midna's eye shone eerily in the gloom, casting a faint orange glow over my exposed hands.

"I can't comprehend the interior design."

She snorted. "You need to stop fighting it. Once it settles, you'll feel perfectly normal again."

"Oh yeah," I countered, propping my wrists on my knees. "Being a shadow totally equates to normal." In response, her expression contorted into something almost like guilt. Bingo. "Look, maybe this is a stupid question, but why the hell are we in this creepy abandoned house? Maybe that screaming or whatever was just the wind. This place has enough holes." I pointed at the door opposite us, which led back to the cavernous main room with the collapsed roof. "If I could control the wind, I bet you a hundred rupees I could play the national anthem."

"Funny, Link." But instead of enlightening me, she just fell silent, into that broody mood of hers that made me nervous. Rather than concentrating on her irritating behaviour, I shut my eyes and leaned my head against the wall, picturing the room again. Opposite stretched a painted wall with the aforementioned door, and to the left of that was the entryway into the kitchen with its massive stove and corner fireplace. Against that wall stood a grand bookcase, its shelves emptied onto the floor years ago, covered in a fine layer of frost. And then came the hearth wall, against which I leant and in front of which lay pieces of what had been a comfy armchair of some indistinguishable colour. She suddenly took a deep breath in and my eyes drifted open, shut, and open again to focus on the ceiling above her shadowy form.

"I think this used to be an armoury of some sort – a northern defence outpost," she told me softly. "You saw the weapons in that room off the kitchen. But all I know is that somewhere in this house is the another source of that tainted twilight, and we need to get rid of it as soon as possible."

Sighing at the lame explanation, I very creakily raised myself to my feet, taking care to leave the sleeve rolled up to my shoulder on my bad arm. Midna had commandeered the jacket as soon as we'd entered after I complained about the decreased range of motion and how all the running around from room to room made me feel like I was melting within the heavy folds. Swallowing thickly, I wiped away some of the cold sweat dripping from my temple and stared blankly at the glittery sheen it made on the back of my hand. "Yeah, yeah. I get the whole race-against-time thing. I always get the short end of the stick."

With a cautious twist of the doorknob, I stuck my face in the gap. "Where do these monsters even _come_ from?" I grumbled quietly while once again peeking into the yard. Snow hit me full in the face, but the wolf didn't leap at me this time. "These people have the worst taste, I swear. First there was all that sand and those spikes, and now there's icicles and rusty armour and whatever the hell that blue thing was- It's an effing mess."

Midna laughed dryly. "I doubt whatever greeted us is all that concerned with housework. The blue thing was a Poe."

"Mmm. I always enjoy being greeted by a scythe to the head." I felt her prod me, but I shrugged it off. Sorting through this place was obviously going to suck, considering the fact that if I didn't move fast enough, I'd probably get frostbite and turn into a freaking glacier. As much as I loved frolicking through waist-deep snow, I couldn't help but remember the stuffy warmth of the Arbiter's Grounds. Here, everything was coated in thick white, and decorated with the occasional broken spear or busted Zora mask. How inviting. Maybe there were skeletons buried somewhere as well.

The courtyard consisted of a rectangular area enclosed by stone and blanketed by cold misery. Directly in front of us some awful ice dragon crouched in the archway, spewing more ice whenever I crept too close, as if the frostbite from the natural surroundings weren't terrible enough on its own. He faced a small covered platform of some sort which, after scaling the side that had been completely filled in by a snowdrift, I realised stood within leaping distance of a rampart that ran the perimeter of the place. Problem was, said rampart had a thick coating of snow polished smooth by ice so there was no way in hell I'd be able to get a grip at all. That, of course, didn't stop me from trying. The first floor had only frozen boxes of ammunition of some sort and weapons ruined by the cold, all hidden throughout stripped rooms with wooden floors destroyed by the ice; whatever lived here had to be somewhere upstairs.

"Let me see the clawshot."

Midna's eyes narrowed. "Just what are you going to do with that, hmm? There's nothing here but snow and that monster in the corner." Her hand shot out, but since the sleeves of the jacket were considerably longer than her arm, she just cut a comical figure instead of something that should have inspired something like reconsideration. "You are standing on a snowy rooftop, seriously contemplating using a _clawshot_ on a nearby ledge, also covered in snow. Are you out of your mind?"

Growling, I slid back down the side and took refuge in the small stone shelter. Midna smiled maliciously. But if I couldn't reach the second storey the unconventional way, that would only leave the entirely too conventional route past the ice dragon. And as far as I knew, I still couldn't shoot fire from my eyes. Frustrated, I lashed out at a convenient pile of snow, only to recoil in pain. Midna, of course, took the opportunity to burst into maniacal laughter.

"How the _hell_ was I supposed to know there was something buried here?" I shouted at her, clutching my toes. Of all the things to be effing buried, I just had to find a goddesses-damned _cannon_. Of all things, an effing _cannon_. Yes, I understood that this was an old armoury, and old outpost full of masochistic crazies. And maybe I could see how cannons related to that purpose. Maybe. Except, not really. "I swear to the goddesses, you find the creepiest, most dangerous, absolutely worst possible places for your terrible little games. Unless you can come up with some ammo for this, I want my coat back before I freeze to death."

"No!" Apparently offended by my mortality, she hugged herself tightly, clutching the cuffs from the inside. "Go check that other door!"

"Give me my coat back!"

She vanished. Rolling my eyes in response, I started towards the metal door set into the western wall. If she wanted to be difficult, fine. At least this way I wouldn't have her constantly nagging me about how goddesses-damned cold it was, as if I didn't already know. The point had been to numb my arm to the point where I couldn't sense the burning; obviously, that only succeeded in freezing the rest of my body almost to the point of glacier status. Besides, it wasn't even working – if anything, the burning crept ever closer to my torso, growing in intensity with every passing moment. She kept telling me that acclimatising to the twilight would make all of this stop – but what would happened then? What was the end game? Did I even want to know? How much longer could I fight it?

The lock had been shattered by earlier visitors; I pushed against the wrought-iron door, but ice had built up behind the frame and just about frozen it shut. Brilliant, really. Growling softly, I jammed my sheath under the door in an attempt to lever it out of its rut, but it refused to budge more than a few inches. So now I had no ammo – or at least, no way to _get _to whatever ammo there might be in an abandoned and/or ransacked castle. Again, brilliant circumstances. I could, of course, create some sort of makeshift projectile. There was plenty of old Zora equipment lying around, though it all seemed well past its peak and on the verge of being 'rotten' if it weren't for the ice. Unfortunately, I'd lost sight of the fine line between being clever and hopelessly stupid.

Out of bombs and out of luck, I shrieked angrily, wheeling around and storming back into the mansion, doing my best to exaggerate my movements to convey the fury pounding through my veins. It didn't help that I couldn't stop shivering uncontrollably. "I WANT MY COAT!" I screamed upon slamming the door. The immediate room was empty, however, save for the ruined books. Unwilling to relinquish the stampede and a little too aware of exactly how solid the snot from my nose had become, I stormed the kitchen only to find a happily crackling fire and Midna curled up in the jacket like a cat. "And when," I continued in the same obnoxiously loud voice, "were you going to invite me to the party?"

She looked up, startled, and grinned brightly. "It's marvellous over here," she purred, petting the bricks near her head. I rolled my eyes.

"I want my jacket back. Now." Reluctantly she handed it to me before fleeing into the warm shadows cast by wood from a broken crate. "How did you get it started?"

"Magic."

"I wish I had magic."

"Don't sulk. I found bombs in the crate. Go see if they're still useable."

Well, that just made everything better, now didn't it? 'Oh, you're on the brink of hypothermia? Don't share the fire; go look at some old weapons instead. An explosion will warm you up much faster than any fire.' That just sounded absolutely wonderful. But nevertheless, I wandered over to the pile of bombs which had apparently been swaddled in canvas before being stowed into the boxes. On account of this they didn't appear to be blatantly damaged. That was good. I nudged the bottom of the pile with a toe, loath to actually move anything because that would mean going back outside, and even with this jacket still warm from Midna's body, I didn't feel like snorting snow. The tiny fire she'd started in the fire pit hardly warmed the large, draughty stone kitchen, but it was loads better than standing in front of that ridiculous monster. What kind of creature breathes streams of _ice_?

My toe nudged a little too hard. Down crashed the bombs, rolling every which way across the floor – but also revealing a set of old, heavy jars, the contents of which seemed frozen. Grinning, I hefted one of the jars into a tight one-arm embrace, then set to rolling the next one out the door and towards the courtyard. Midna stayed behind in the kitchen, still tinkering with the fire, hardly sparing a startled glance as I kicked the second jar out of her sight.

Guiding it carefully along the path I'd painstaking carved moments earlier, I managed to get both jars jammed into the cannon's mouth and ready for takeoff, after very laboriously pushing the damn thing into position. Okay; so I was about to set off an explosion with a freaking cannon, hopefully blowing the offending ice beast to pieces. This crazy idea could either work beautifully, or gruesomely backfire – literally, probably blowing me and anything else in the near vicinity to bloody smithereens. As cheerful as those prospects were, I really had no other choice... honestly, what else was I going to do? Perform some sort of pyro-dance and hope the thing howled and melted like a nice little ice monster? It would be lovely if I had that kind of power, but reality insisted on raining steadily over my parade.

"You're such a lucky bastard, Link," I muttered sullenly as I made my way back to the kitchen. "Such an effing lucky bastard." I slammed the door and set to glaring mutely at Midna, whose drowsy demeanour only fuelled the anger licking my ribs. If she wanted to rescue Link so badly, she sure had a funny way of showing it sometimes. She didn't so much as stir as I upended a nearby basket full of frozen, mouldy bread. She did, however, notice the accidental explosion of one of the bombs as I stacked them inside.

My ears were ringing, but I could see her hovering over me, horrified, mouthing something that might have been my name. Struggling upright again blinking away the stars, I held up my hands to make sure they were still there, and at least one of them was – my left hand, the twilit one, which I'd been using to move the bombs, had turned a strange solid grey. Those fingers must have brushed the fuse and ignited it... but that didn't explain how I was still standing here in one piece. Gradually, sounds filtered back into the world and I waved her off to stare dazedly at the other bombs, miraculously unscathed. The wooden shelves of what must have been a pantry weren't so lucky... not that it particularly mattered. Monsters didn't exactly take tea with carefully made preserves.

"Answer me!"

"What!" I cupped an ear, cringing slightly. "I'm fine. This damn twilight set it off, not me-"

"You _are_ part twilight now. If you'd stop trying to dissociate yourself from it-"

Suddenly, I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in close, close enough so that we could see eye-to-eye. "Do I _look_ like I want to turn into a shadow? Because I don't want to give off the wrong impression, Midna. I never asked for this."

"Roll with the punches, kid," she snapped right back, dissolving. "What are you doing with these anyway?"

With more than a little difficulty, I made a point of scooping the bombs back into the basket with my good hand, keeping the twilit menace behind my back. These were less like the small, refined grenade-like explosives Midna had previously supplied, and more like the cherry bombs the hunters in Ordon used to smoke out the fields. I tossed one gently, forcing her to scramble in order to catch it before it hit the now-scorched wooden floor. On the bright side, I'd cleared a considerable amount of frost and ice from the area.

"I'm planning a tea party in the courtyard. I thought it could do with a little more excitement."

Blank stare. "What have you done now?"

"Well," I started impatiently, shifting my weight to one foot, "if you'd just follow me out there you'd see that I plan on blowing up that stupid monster. You very helpfully didn't bother offering any solutions, so I came up with my own."

"Excuse me for very nearly freezing to death." Her decidedly-unhappy expression had surfaced within a matter of seconds, but she nevertheless vanished into a pocket, her tiny hands curled around the hem as she peeked out. "Fine. I was hoping your little jar trick would take considerably longer to set up."

Casting a distasteful look at the fire, I lugged the basket out into the courtyard, grumbling, "I can see that. Now if you'd make yourself useful and help me stuff these into the cannon, we might be able to get somewhere in this goddesses-forsaken house."

Midna glared, abandoning her shelter for a brief moment to ignite a fuse and join me in cramming it into the hatch. The sulphur filled the gazebo with acrid smoke that stung the eyes and the inside of my nose; the gentle hissing grated against my nerves. I shut my eyes, hoping fervently that the recoil wouldn't knock the foundations of this little haven out from under us, or otherwise send an avalanche crashing down over our heads. Like any sane person, I thoroughly detested the idea of death by live burial. I took a breath- then I plugged my ears, turned away, and watched out of the corner of my eye as the bastard exploded-

"Oh, bloody hell! What _is_ that thing!" I felt my jaw drop in horror; something _alive_ had been in one of the jars I'd just smashed, and it was scrambling around awkwardly with pieces of pottery stuck to its face.

Midna drifted over, startled, staring disbelievingly at the squawking mutant chicken that had emerged from the settling snow. "It's Ooccoo!" It took all of two seconds for her to dissolve into unrestrained cackling, and childish taunting. "You stupid fowl!" she choked, giggling. "You _stupid _fowl! I knew I didn't like you for a reason!"

_Great Din_. I smacked myself on the forehead, growling angrily. "What the hell was she doing in that jar? It was _frozen solid_!"

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Midna grinned wolfishly, her eye still sparkling madly. She pointed at the shattered bits of pot. "She was stupid enough to get herself frozen in a pot."

Ooccoo screamed some sort of obscenity at me, stamping around on her chicken feet. Yes, it was funny. But it was also only a matter of time before she found me, and decided to peck my eyes out for good measure. Feeling rather self-conscious, I pulled my hat down low over my eyes, and drew my sword in preparation for the red-eyed ice mounds that had sprung up in place of the dragon. "As long as she stays over there. I think she's in shock from the impact." Midna giggled again; I rolled my eyes, sidestepping the irate Oocca as she ploughed into the stone wall, still screeching, and slashed deftly at the ice things. With them out of the way, I paused in opening the door.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked impatiently.

"I can't just leave her out here."

Midna's hip jutted out in her signature move. "Yes, you can."

I frowned, then knelt, knees popping, 'til I could grab the Oocca's tail feathers. "Hey. Ooccoo."

Twisting around, she jerked crazily and began screaming again. "UNHAND ME YOU FILTHY-"

"You have three seconds to get in my coat pocket, or I will leave you out in this blizzard." She quit thrashing violently, but Midna made some sort of angry noise.

"She's not taking my spot!" she spluttered heatedly before vanishing into an inner pocket.

"Farore, Nayru and _Din_," I sighed. _What are you, five?_ Breathing in deeply, I held open the unbuttoned compartment for the bewildered Oocca; she hesitated for a moment, then she, too, vanished. So now I had two barnacles attached to my person. Yippee. Next thing I knew, I might have half of Hyrule demanding piggyback rides.


	21. break on through

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Break on Through by The Doors.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Suits of armour were supposed to be just that: empty suits. Stationary. They were _not_ supposed to wield weapons and chase poor victims like myself around a nightmare of a room, full of chain-linked barriers and broken weapons and rust. The whole living-thing aside, how was it possibly _still_ alive after goddesses knew how long? Better question: Who the _hell_ put two of the nasty buggers in the same tiny corridor? Who the hell decorates with chain-link walls in the first place?

Tiredly, I rolled behind the ugly troll-knight for what seemed like the umpteenth time, slashing at a lumpy mess of a tail as I passed. The damn thing just wouldn't die – in fact, I was pretty sure it was _un_dead, but the possibility of it 'coming back to life' scared the pants off of me, so I didn't consider it. Midna growled something in my ear about the clawshot, a method we had already tried and failed to perfect. A long corridor, the walls and ceiling had been lined with rusted chain-link that, when the grappling hooks pierced the crumbling metal, whole sections of the cage-like structure crashed uselessly to the broken tile floor. Of course, sometimes those pieces hit the troll, but they just served as tiny annoyances. Smashing into the said floor, however, because your only support system – which, until that point I had trusted explicitly thanks to earlier adventures – totally failed you, nearly getting you killed in the process, was not a tiny annoyance.

I had obviously been reduced to crawling around with lethargic uncreativity, and poking at the stupid beast with my sword. It sucked. I'd been hit twice already by his rusted flail, I'd knocked some of his armour off, but this stupid battle was drawing out a little too long for my liking and neither of us was clearly winning. I backed carefully into the far corner and watched his steady approach, whispering waspishly, "Don't you have a plan B?"

"Plan B?" she countered with blatant irritation. "You weren't supposed to tear foot-wide streaks through half the available ceiling!"

"Except that _half the available ceiling is rusted beyond repair_!"

She grumbled quietly, then advised me to move a split second too late. Panting heavily and just barely missing decapitation by a flying chain, I sprinted back down the corridor to the other door that had magically locked as soon as I'd entered the room. I found out after the fact, just before stumbling into the knight and waking it, that I'd triggered some sort of switch that barred both exits. The discovery really helped boost the morale. Even now, I could feel the despair simmering insistently, but turned and ducked and scurried away again as if I had all the energy in the world. _ You've gotta give me something to work with, Midna. I can't keep this up for much longer._

"Well," she started, sounding about as confident in her statement as I felt facing a wall of fire with a wooden shield, "you could try slashing at him from behind."

I rolled my eyes. "'Cause, you know, that's _really_ realistic. Very helpful. I'll just draw on some nonexistent energy reserves and smash this guy to bits, then take a break for afternoon tea. What the hell, Midna?" The troll tossed his mace again, and I dodged, hissing as one of the points caught the edge of my shoulder. "C'mon, man, this isn't working!"

Then she hesitated, and I angrily brandished the clawshot, shooting it reflexively as if the action might release some pent-up frustration. Instead, the damn chain just got tangled in an old chandelier suspended above the cage – but the troll's mace consequently wrapped around the clawshot, deflecting the attack. Midna appeared to sense my epiphany and chose to remain inquisitive but silent; I, however, hurriedly recalled the chain, dove clumsily behind my assailant, and by tangling my own chain with the troll's mace once more, I created an opportunity for offense. He paused for a few seconds, confused, giving me more than enough time to leap up and smash my sword down the whole of his exposed back, right down to his nasty tail. Somewhere, Midna gasped, her hands curling tight into the fabric of my tunic: time stopped, and the troll staggered, tugging fruitlessly at his entangled weapon, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. That left me staring dazedly for a good minute, until I realised that, lo and behold, the damn monster had finally kicked the bucket and the doors had been unlocked and the flail had come hurtling to the ground in a lethal mass of metal just inches from my nose.

"Pick it up and let's go."

I looked at her blankly, since she'd deemed it necessary to appear in full force before me, shivers and all. "What the hell do you mean, pick it up? That looks like it's easily three times my body weight." My voice sounded flat and dead; my arms were throbbing insanely from the gashes and grazes. I almost wanted to blow a raspberry in her face, but with my level of exhaustion, I might have only succeeded in letting my tongue creep out half-heartedly, and I couldn't bear that. When it came to insults, it had to be done right.

Shaking her head, she pointed again at the humungous flail and dispersed it in a cloud of twilight for later use. "Silly boy," she muttered.

"I wish I could do that." I squinted, if only to make myself look more serious and observant in her suddenly-rescinded visible presence. "If we find any more of these creeps, you can fight them because I need a nap."

"Stop being such a coward." Midna paused, then added offhandedly, "We have the prize weapon here, at any rate."

"'We have the prize weapon here, at any rate,'" I mocked. "Yeah, by nearly having my head taken off multiple times by said weapon. Real handy. You promote masochism, just so you know. I could've just wrestled the same weapon from one of the inert suits in the foyer."

She just grinned maliciously. "I try."

x

I found an ice blockade and what might have been goat cheese or a small pulverised corpse, the latter of which being so rotten the smell made me want to cry. Whatever it was must have spoiled when the chest shattered after the bed was overturned on top of it. Frustrated that my efforts had been in vain, I kicked at the splintered wood viciously and adopted my best sulking face. We'd emerged into some sort of bedroom, complete with a torn portrait on the wall above the dusty remnants of maimed furniture and sizeable holes in the wood floor caused by the advance of the ice. I'd fought a dead troll knight about five times my size just to break into a bedroom.

"What the hell, Midna?" I snapped at my shadow. "Who keeps shit like that in a chest? Are we even supposed to be here? I haven't found a single helpful thing in any of these goddesses-damned chests."

She looked confused, judging by the way her eye kept narrowing and widening, the red contrasting sharply with the grimy floor. "Well, the place looks ransacked," she finally admitted, flitting into my pocket. "Even so, there should be something else here…." Shaking her head against my side, I stared blankly as she pointed back the way we'd come. "Just head back, and see where that gets us. You can always try climbing the staircases."

She nudged me when I sighed angrily, but I moved to the door anyway and retraced my steps to the courtyard instead of the main room since I had no intention of clambering over icy wood. This frozen detour was really starting to piss me off, and I was sure it wasn't just the heightened effects of the twilight spawning the intense emotional reaction. By the time I'd found my way back to the fireplace room and discovered a door I'd previously overlooked, one half-obscured by a thick mail curtain in the shadow of the bookcase, and by the time I managed to pry open the door, I realised the initial reaction of 'oh shit' barely covered it.

An iron cage took up most of the centre of the room, a long-defunct fire pit of some sort fenced in by a dented grate. Around the cage a stone corridor spiralled upwards into the dark; the second I stopped foot in the general direction, I nearly had my nose singed off by the force of another damn ice monster's breath as it exploded through the iron bars. Stumbling backwards, I watched, infuriated, as the damn monster shut its mouth and went back to leering at me from where it crouched in its hovel.

"Why the hell do these things live here?" I directed at Midna. "Who the hell put them here? I swear to the goddesses, if I could conjure fire-"

"Stop whining and kill it," came the muffled response.

"Screw that."

I could see its eyes, beady blue eyes set into sharp, icy sockets, watching me intently as I crept closer. The second it reared back the slightest bit to draw breath, I scrambled back against the wall, forcing it to swallow its icicles and hopefully choke on them. And then I did it again. And again. And after about the seventh time of this stupid game of cat and mouse, when I moved forwards, its mouth stayed shut. It stared, apparently through with anticipating my actions. I made my move and sprinted past, all the way up the slope, grinning wickedly despite the rush of cold air against my teeth. Midna muttered something demeaning but I shrugged it off.

"And that," I told her, "is how you outwit animated ice sculptures."

When I opened the door and very narrowly dodged the icicle aimed at my head, she snickered and repeated the words back to me. Easy for her to act tough – she'd taken up residence in a goddesses-damned coat pocket, almost literally riding my coattails as I fought my way through this place. And it wasn't even like I had encouragement throughout all of this. Since arriving, we hadn't found a single sign that anything interesting resided here, aside from the initial screaming and maybe the whole ball-and-chain thing. The smelly chest after the knight had been more than a bummer, and now I had to fight icemen? With javelins made of ice? I wondered vaguely what might have happened if I'd simply torched the place... strategically, of course, by targeting all the icy patches and monsters.

But without any sort of fiery weapon, I was forced to run at a dead sprint at the iceman, putting everything into the basket of surprise. Which, considering the circumstances, worked surprisingly well, enough for me to disarm the bugger and hack it to pieces, all while keeping a wary eye on the lack of anything between me and open space. I'd evidently stepped out into a upper-storey room with the middle of the damn floor missing; instead, a chandelier had come loose from its anchor in the ceiling and hung in the gap between the broken floorboards like some kind of terrible sign just for me. I didn't really see a point in even attempting to cross the gap except for a crumbling pile of junk in the far corner, beneath a shattered suit of armour. This, of course, warranted investigation. This, of course, supported the efficiency of conditioning.

I moved as far away from the edge as I could, aligning myself so that after x steps, I'd have a single shot at the chandelier. Now, I knew this wasn't my brightest idea, but how else could I possibly get over to the other side? If Midna weren't so damn lazy, then she might have floated on over to poke through the mess... however, I was at least eighty-percent certain that I could hear muted snores issuing from my pocket. She really knew how to instil confidence in a guy. After a steadying breath, I sprinted for the centre of the room and the mess of chains, felt myself leap into open space, and after a heart-pounding moment of terror, finally grasped the freezing metal. The lamp lurched forward with my momentum, then back, creaking horridly, and then swung near enough to the next patch of floor for me to jump clear of the edge and roll into the wall there. The boards groaned and shuddered from the force of my impact; I froze uncertainly, terrified it would give way under me and I'd plummet into whatever room lay beneath.

After a few moments of waiting anxiously for the inevitable falling sensation, nothing happened. And, cracking open an eye, I realised that I was still on the same jagged remnants of the fractured boards, hunched awkwardly on all fours in a sad attempt to brace myself for the predicted fall. But just because it hadn't happened then didn't mean it wouldn't happen now, or in the near future. I carefully approached the pile of junk in the corner, intent on reaching the old chest and scoring this time. I wanted to reject the idea that maybe we were looking in the wrong house – that maybe this place was just haunted instead of inhabited by something inherently evil with tainted twilight. It would set us back so far if this were the wrong place. Jamming a hand into the chest, I dug around for a few minutes but only encountered ratty clothes and an unsheathed, rusty dagger that almost sliced my fingers open. I was just about ready to give up when something heavy and metallic knocked against my knuckles.

"A key! Midna, I found a key, _finally_!" Snuffling. She appeared for a second, just long enough to stare at my prize blearily, unimpressed. "What d'you think it goes to?"

"Didn't you check for locked doors on your way in here?"

"Didn't you?" I snapped back, annoyed. She wasn't taking this victory away. Growling softly, I used the clawshot to get back across the room by aiming for a broken sconce on the far wall by the doorway. I emerged once again into the javelin hallway, with the door to the ice dragon to my left and, directly across from the doorway I stood in, a huge busted wall revealed a parallel, dusty hallway I'd somehow missed before. It could only lead one way, since the second door had most likely been destroyed in whatever explosion had decimated the wall. Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, I spotted the padlocked door.

…And we were back in the main, cavernous room, just one floor up. I'd gone through _all_ that trouble just to get a good dim view of the damn place, with its scattering of fallen roof beams and snow and were those eyes peeking out from the rubble? Goddesses. There were several broken chandeliers in this room as well, but, after the harrowing experience of retrieving the last key, I had no intention of exploring the far reaches of the foyer. Instead, with a bold cry, I rolled across the landing to the other side, where the right staircase topped out, quickly slashed through the javelin, and without breaking pace, rolled right through the door – and kept rolling, out of control, sprawled across a giant sheet of ice.

"Goddesses-damn it!" I skidded into a wall and hurriedly tried to regain my balance; even as I struggled, a crowd of red-eyed ice demons approached at an alarming rate, the traitorous ice lending them speed.

Midna tugged on my tunic suddenly. "Don't bother with that!" she insisted as I yanked the sword out of its sheath. "Take the door, it's unlocked!"

"Easy for you to say!" Sliding awkwardly, I managed to skate my way to a set of double doors in the corner. Inside, I suddenly recognised the place as the upper level of the armoury connected to the kitchen. What I'd mistaken as a room completely full of crates of useless weapons, now revealed itself as the keeper of some sort of puzzle. I shoved a few crates around until I had a safe descent to the first floor and also a convenient access point to the second. She, of course, chose this moment to appear in all her antagonizing glory.

Hip jutted, she gestured to the icy floor and the crates placed strategically on the frozen tiles. "Go on, then. Let's see just how clever you are."

"'And we'll see just how clever you are,'" I spat back at her. The anger was already starting to heat my face; I could feel the flush creeping up my neck and along my collarbone. Obligingly, I put my shoulder to the nearest block and pushed, revealing a rusted old switch just barely separate from the ice. If there were switches under here, then it most definitely was a puzzle, and solving it would open something, no keys or rickety floors or chandeliers involved. Brilliant. Lines crisscrossed over the mental picture, with one route in particular standing out against the rest as I analysed the spatial arrangement against the backs of my eyelids. She stared curiously when I began to move with purpose, and looked pricelessly surprised when I completed the puzzle in record time.

"Well done," she said, but I was already scaling the crates, headed for the door on the upper level that had just opened. I had to pick my way around the perimeter because most of the stone catwalk had been destroyed, like virtually everything else in the place. I heard her giggle lightly at my exasperated sigh. "Outside, again. This is my cue." Vanishing into an inner pocket again, her sinister sparkle vacated my shadow, or what little I could see of it.

The door had led to a stone causeway littered with javelins and exposed to the high winds of the landscape – the same stone causeway covered in ice and snow that I'd attempted to somehow leap onto during my initial foray in the courtyard. _Freaking lovely, really. Why don't I just sprint across this shattered stone wall, and maybe toss in a few cartwheels? Farore, Nayru, and Din!_ While I didn't feel mortally fatigued, the effects of all this running around in a frozen environment with little sleep and steadily accumulating minor injuries were beginning to show. I was slowing down. The tips of my fingers had numbed to the point of burning. All the fairies had either died or fled the place due to the terrible conditions, and I couldn't blame them. Another few minutes out here and my ears might fall off.

Taking a steadying breath, I leapt onto the first fragment of the battlement with bow drawn and arrows already flying, smashing into the icemen crowded on the far landing as I slid along the uneven ice. The force of the blows were enough to knock two of the three into the courtyard below; the last one I hurtled into at full force because I gracelessly tripped on a rough patch of snow. I disposed of both the iceman and the patch with several angry hacks, made entirely too difficult by my nerveless fingers. Why Telma didn't include a pair of gloves completely blew my mind. She'd insisted on this heavy coat and a sturdier pair of boots, and even forced an extra week of rations into an already overstuffed pack. I had half a mind to tear up my last tunic and add it to the meagre strips already twined around my hands, as if that might alleviate the terrible cold burning through the knuckles. I could barely turn the damn doorknob to get back inside.

"Lo and behold, more chandeliers!" I kicked the peeling carpet viciously, reluctantly leaning my shoulders against the door, bracing myself for the inevitable running leap. I didn't know who or what wrecked this place, but cutting all but a few of the chains that suspended the chandeliers seemed like a pretty ridiculous thing to do. Why not just go the distance and cut them down completely? But no – instead, a bunch of sadists had raided the place and left everything just hazardous enough for me to actually reminisce about the Arbiters Grounds. This place had such potential too: put a fire in the hearth in the corner, and string up the lamps again, and it might have been a habitable place, maybe even a little cosy with the snow blowing around outside and a roaring fire inside. Now, with half the floor fallen away and the part of the hearth shattered, the chandeliers tipping sideways from severed supports and the walls frosted and stained... oh, how the mighty have fallen.

One steadying breath later, and I'd launched myself at the first chandelier, fingers scrabbling over the tarnished chain, rocking gently to swing into range of the next one. It occurred to me halfway through my clumsy lunge that this whole business was kind of ridiculous. Why was I even doing this? Why did I have to scurry around like a frostbitten rat in the first place? What was I getting out of this madness? Sure, I had a great collection of keys now, including the one I found broken off in the door before me, but other than that and a bit of experience, all this running around didn't benefit anyone but Midna and maybe Link, if he was still alive. A part of me wanted to believe that none of this meant anything, that it was the product of Midna's desperation and inability to let the man rest in peace. Another part of me wanted to prove something, unnamed and white-hot at the centre of my chest. Yet another part understood that without Midna, I would be running and hiding until I starved to death or the soldiers finally found me, and I couldn't bear that reality. I wanted to believe that I left Ren for a good reason; I had to.

I shook my head as I smashed through the door with my shoulder. "I'm tired."

Surprisingly enough, she responded, "We're almost there."

"That's easy for you to say, tucked up in a warm pocket while I freeze to death."

"Somebody sounds cranky."

Oh, I'd give her cranky. Radiating bitterness, I stomped through the remains of the door, only to realise I'd ended up back in the room with the crate puzzle. Great. With my luck I'd probably have to fight more ice demons before we made it to any real destination here. I ploughed into the kitchen again and took up a piece of frozen wood, possibly a leg from a broken table or something, wrapped the top in some cloth trapped under a pile of crates, and thrust the bundle into the fire until it caught. Triumphant, I marched back through the room with the toppled bookcase and back out into the courtyard, wonderful fiery warmth bathing my face. Why the hell hadn't I thought of this earlier?

Midna snorted quietly from my coat. "This isn't a parade ground."

"No, but it's equally ridiculous. I effing hate all these doors. How many rooms and doors and keys does a place need, for goddesses' sakes?"

She actually graced me with her presence this time, hovering before me as I made my way through a dark, eerily geometric stone hallway that gradually sloped upwards. "As soon as we rescue Link, you can take a long nap in the sun." A door loomed into view, tied by another shattered padlock, and she leant a tiny shoulder against the jamb, clearly condescending. "We're close."

"Reassuring." I glared at her. "The last time you said that," I stated quietly as I crept into the room, "I nearly got myself killed again. Do you just say that so I don't give up entirely? 'Cause I'm pretty damn near exhausted, and I'm beginning to think it's not just the cold."

She watched silently as I smashed through a crowd of ice mounds with a terribly inefficient combination of sword and torch, then turned my attention to the locked door. It wasn't until after I started cursing colourfully that she finally responded with, "I need to keep you moving, but I promise you'll get a break after this." Her words sounded sticky, as if they were covered in something like deceit but not quite as potent.

I just shook my head; there was nothing I could say aside from a muttered, "Smashing these monsters might just be the most fulfilling thing I've done in a while," to ease the insincerity. She wouldn't tell me any details if I asked, and besides, I needed my concentration more than anything at the moment. I needed this quest, and both of us understood that. Maybe if I stopped questioning everything and wavering so much, I might be able to accomplish something properly. Maybe there was an ounce of truth in Talo's words.

But the fact of the matter was I'd come to another door, this one with a padlock intact. My torch had burnt out after jamming it into the socket of one of those little demons, so instead of bravely facing the next stage of the adventure – the door did, after all, exude a kind of foreboding – I found myself with rounded shoulders in a gloomy corner, scrutinising the peeling wood. Midna, of course, decided to lend the moment a kind of shallow jauntiness by resting an elbow on my shoulder, her headdress awkwardly leaning against my temple. We stood like that for a minute or two before she finally sighed decisively.

"You're more violent than you let on," she said dryly.

I snapped back, "On the contrary, I believe what you're seeing is a result of the twilight."

Laughing slightly, she shook her head, "I think it's just your true nature. Fighting brings out the best in people, you know."

"Yeah, I've been trying to keep my superior fighting abilities under wraps for years." I paused, key in hand and a turn away from whatever lay before us. "You know, it feels kind of... funny."

"This is it, I think." I couldn't see her, but I inherently knew how her eyes were burning, wide and fiery like a sunset on a lake. "I will warp you out if-"

"No." She jerked away from my side, wheeling around to face me, her gaze hardened. But I shook my head violently as I drew my sword. "I can do this. I beat that crazy skeleton monster. I can do this, but you've got to give me the benefit of the doubt. _Don't warp out_." She nodded her agreement, her understanding, speechless but determined; I slipped inside, heard the rattle of the mail curtains, and felt the staggering force of three javelins.


	22. if it kills me

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"Holy hell." Panting heavily, I collapsed against the back of a nearby pew, wincing reflexively every time something shattered into the wall beside me. I'd stepped into a dilapidated chapel, but instead of pious bodies strewn about a statue or two, I met a whole host of goddesses-damned icemen. They kept up a steady barrage after the initial volley, when I'd stepped just a hair too far inside and caught the attention of the nearest three. I'd narrowly missing being fatally impaled on their weapons, but the grazes I'd received instead weren't exactly pittances. Out of bombs and too weary to wield the flail in so congested a space, I resorted to sniping at them with arrows, which might have been helpful if they didn't stumble around even after I chipped away their heads.

I peeked over the top edge of the pew, then ducked again as one of the throwers discovered my position. The other two patrolled near the door where I'd entered, so I couldn't retreat. Several more rows of broken pews extended towards the shattered statue that blocked the exit just off to the left of a destroyed altar; if I got down on my stomach, I could crawl beneath some of the benches but I'd still have a good sprint to the door, not counting the time and effort to dislodge the pieces of the statue and actually escape. With about ten of these damn icemen wandering around, the odds obviously weren't in my favour – but that wouldn't stop me from trying.

Grunting quietly, I managed to extricate myself from the rotten wood without drawing the attention of the nearest monsters. I unbuckled the flail from my belt and crouched just below the back of the bench, tense with nerves and something like fear. If I got up quick enough and launched the ball and chain, I might be able to catch the loner unawares. Hopefully. If I missed, I'd be skewered by four icy javelins. Gathering myself on my knees, I wrapped the chain around my good arm and let it fly, my aim guided by the slow scraping and shuffling of blocky feet; when I heard the shattering ice, I sighed in relief and ducked back under the pew – but not before being showered by shrapnel.

"You okay?"

I turned to reply, but before I could get any words out, she'd put a hand over one of the deeper grazes. Hissing and flinching at the contact, I jerked away and waved her off. "Din, Midna, I'm fine." I probed my shoulder gingerly, rather unhappily finding an increased amount of blood and frost. "Farore," I swore loudly, "did you have to touch it?"

She shrank back a little, suddenly sheepish. "Sorry, but it needs-"

"Just- dammit, just give me a minute, then you can play with it all you want." She knew I was lying, and maybe because of that she finally made herself useful by immobilising the remaining three icemen in a crackling net of magic. Carefully, hardly daring to breathe, I lunged at the nearest, demolishing them with the flail, turning nimbly on the icy floor to dash the pair to pieces. The final one shuddered violently within Midna's trappings, and as luck would have it, just as I wound up for the final cast, the monster broke free, landing a legitimate hit even as it exploded. The damn javelin was not only unbearably cold, as I'd discovered earlier, but also surprisingly sharp – a detail I wasn't too keen on noticing, due to the fact that I had half a goddesses-damned icicle protruding from my chest.

"Shit." Words were spilling from my mouth, but I didn't understand the garbled swearing. The completed blow effectively destroyed the thrower, though it left me gasping, kneeling, on the chapel floor, breaths shuddering in a panic. "Shit, Midna-"

Hands; she'd repositioned me so that I was lying on the floor, the ice pointing towards the ceiling in a brilliant flash of blue and white and silver. "Goddesses. Hold still, Link." I could hear her muttering angrily under her breath, could feel her fingers working feverishly as shadows to remove the piece. The damn thing had caught me in my bad shoulder, where the twilight had taken root since our escapade through solid ice back in the cave. Now, Midna's touch was forcing the surrounding area to fluctuate between two temperature extremes… And as fascinating as those sensations were, it was definitely more interesting to watch as the icicle turned a dangerous grey, and dispersed harmlessly into the air.

I breathed in deeply, relieved. "Farore, I thought I was-"

"It was the twilight," she said grimly instead. "It pierced the twilight, and the contact was forcing it to gradually change composition. It's spreading, and strengthening."

Sitting up cautiously and flexing my shoulders, I readjusted my gauntlets. "Yeah," I replied, "and it just saved my life, I think."

Midna just grimaced and shook her head, then pointed at the offending extremity. By the glint in her eyes, I could tell that, whatever it was, it was serious. _Maybe a little too serious_. "You..." she began faintly, but I held up my hand in an attempt to divert whatever she was trying to say.

"Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"But Link-"

"No." I stood cautiously, regained my balance, then turned towards the barricaded door. For all the trouble I was about to go through to get into the next room, there had damn well better be something spectacular on the other side. "I don't want to know, so don't tell me-"

Her eyes flashed from my shadow, from her usual crimson to that startling glint, and I froze, dumbfounded. Stepping back reflexively, I stared as the passion that lit her gaze eventually faded to the soft glow of the Triforce. At that, I felt a twinge of regret. Zelda had promised to return once the twilight subsided. Yeah. If what I'd stopped Midna from saying offered any indication, then I had a long way to go before I heard her voice again. At the rate things were happening, I'd probably get to meet her in person before hearing her, so terrible was this twilight. So sticky and imposing and catastrophic.

The next room was more of a tiny alcove than a room. Dark and dank, the stone walls shut us into a tiny cube of frozen air with a suspicious series of steps directly opposite the door to the chapel. In the corner right of the staircase rested a large chest and a series of braziers now coated in rust and dented beyond repair. Inside the chest, I found a larger key than usual with a vague sense of dread. Either the locksmith had run out or ordinary keys given the infuriating number of doors in this goddesses-forsaken place, or I'd finally found something useful. Now, finally, after frostbite and sleep deprivation. Not to mention, I hadn't properly slept since the cave, and the last thing I'd eaten was some spit-roasted _thing_ Midna had cooked up over her fire in the kitchen. I still wasn't entirely sure if that _thing_ had been something edible after all, since it had smelled strongly of leather and bilge water, a strange enough combination without eating involved. _As if the presence of tainted twilight weren't enough_.

Turning the key in my hands, I ascended the stairs, that awful feeling of doom curdling in my stomach with ever step. The final landing revealed a set of intricately-carved double doors held fast by an impressive lock. I sat down against the wall, once again fumbling the key.

"Are you ready?"

"No. Am I ever?"

She smiled wanly, and I noticed that the familiar gleam of her eyes had returned, only barely supplemented by a second glow I hadn't noticed before. _Hello, Zelda. _"I still have one more fairy, if it means anything to you. We should get this over with."

Flexing my shoulders sluggishly, I eventually stood and faced the final lock, my emotions stuck somewhere between FULL and EMPTY. I didn't care. The abject anger from earlier had dissipated sufficiently, mysteriously, though I was fairly certain it would crop up again during the fight. Undoubtedly, the roaring thing dwelt in the next room. I looked at Midna one last time as she hovered nearby, her expression solemn.

"We're good?"

Her fangs glittered. "Let's go, kiddo."

The lock shattered the instant I turned the key, the door drifted open, and the bellowing nearly deafened us. I staggered backwards, sword drawn. "What the bloody hell is making that noise?" I shouted.

"Hurry inside – we've got to contain whatever it is!"

_How altruistic of you, Link, you stupid fool._ With a bone-rattling collision, the doors thundered into the frame; simultaneously, an eerie grey light flooded the room, illuminating a huge ice mass hovering near the ceiling. I felt my jaw drop sharply, and the swearing start with, "Oh, bloody hell."

Whatever it was, the monster had encased itself in thick ice; where the face should have been, I could barely make out a pair of gleaming red eyes, and what looked like lethal fangs. I dove out of the way as it came at me, screeching hysterically, and was hit with the ridiculous thought: _If Midna were a snow demon…._

Rolling around on ice turned out to be significantly harder than I'd first thought. Upon stopping, I yanked out the flail and appropriately flailed around with it, hoping to hit the monster as it spun by; the ball struck it hard, chipping off massive pieces and revealing a smaller, denser ice body within. Cursing angrily, I continued chiselling away with the ball – until the thing finally spun itself against a wall, shuddered, and howled furiously, the missing sheath of ice exposing the real foe: a two-legged shadow, superimposed by the burning light of an awkward skeleton.

"What the hell is that?" I groaned, even as the being shimmied its way into the air and summoned the remnants of its casing, a veritable ring of icy death. How the hell did I get myself into this mess? Midna didn't respond immediately, but when she did, it wasn't helpful: "I think that's the yeti's wife." I'd never seen a yeti, and if this was his wife, he had some serious taste issues. When the icicles started ringing me in, I jumped outside the circle and hurriedly swung the flail to break them. When the monster itself came crashing down at me, I swung at it too.

"Keep it up, I'll be back," Midna said suddenly, and within a second she'd vacated my shadow. _No time to stare after her_. I dodged the icicles again, then turned and slammed the ball into the monster for the second time, noticing belatedly that part of its ice ring of doom had been significantly diminished by my efforts. _We're getting close… get back here, you frozen bugger_.

As soon as the icicles began falling again, I knew I had it; with a hearty scream of my own, I sent the ball and chain hurtling through the air for the final time – and felt the metal pierce the ice with immense satisfaction. The monster flew backwards into the wall, howling louder than ever, thrashing violently in the process, but its casing had splintered beyond repair. I dropped the ball and chain with a sigh of relief, and watched wordlessly as the shadow surrounding the skeleton melted, followed by the rapid evaporation of the bones. A glittery mess bounced out of the ashes. The ice also melted from the heat generated by the bones, enough so that when I stumbled over to the area, I collapsed against scorched carpet. Piles of broken stained glass littered the outskirts of the circular room, which must have functioned as a sanctuary of some kind, maybe even a lookout. Stairs spiralled along the walls to the high ceilings and outside again; I had no desire whatsoever to explore. Rather, I pressed my face against the floor and shut my eyes, humming in exhaustion and pain and fading adrenaline. I might have summoned the energy to pat myself on the back for the single-handed defeat if the disappearance of a certain imp didn't grate on my nerves.

"Midna?" No answer. High above, the wind was feverishly rattling the iron window panes; tiny breaths of snow drifted downward, bringing various shades of cold with them as the flakes settled over me. Over near the ashes, something else had coalesced – and it strongly resembled that piece of the Mirror. I turned away whatever it was by curling into the foetal position. The last thing I needed was another encounter with that crazy shit.

"Midna?" Still no answer. _I'll just wait… she'll come back eventually. She always does._

Or does she? The thought came unexpectedly, and questioned boldly. I sat up wearily and propped myself against the headboard, staring out into the empty room. I couldn't deny the fact that I'd seen the subtle shift in her gaze – the wildness that I'd thought we'd left behind had returned, however briefly. _Maybe she's still confused between the two of you, hence the 'he's alive' admission by Zelda. Maybe she's been keeping her in check?_ Sighing in frustration, I put my hands over my eyes and seared my lungs with the cold air.

"Nothing is ever effing simple," I grumbled to myself, shivering.

"I second that," Midna replied suddenly, out of nowhere. I bolted upright again and stared at her; she floated in front of me, but her posture suggested she was ill-at-ease about something.

"Way to jump back into the equation." Staggering upright with a groan, I tiredly readjusted my gauntlets. How hadn't I noticed the weight of all my equipment until now? "What are we gonna do now?"

She pointed to the floor, channelling a dense current of dark energy that collected into a pool. "There's only one way out," she stated simply, "and I'm hoping this works." She caught my look, and recognised my lack of protest for what it was. "Come here." I came silently, with my weapons safely tucked away and my thoughts askew; it felt like my life in that moment had condensed into a cloud of confusion. Her hand grasped my upper arm tightly, the world dissolved in a storm of black particles – until her fingers suddenly dug in too roughly, and her hissed, "No!" alerted me to a problem. A big, ugly, overwhelmingly powerful problem.


	23. lost coastlines

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Lost Coastlines by Okkervil River.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Someone was screeching wildly, fists banging on something hollow nearby, words indistinguishable from the terrific howls. The sounds clouded my head until it felt like only a dense black mass existed between my ears, blotting out the possibility of thought or perception and leaving me in a thick stupor, which was incredibly wonderful considering the most recent events. I might have stayed like that too, if it weren't for a sudden piercing cry that, along with all the sound in the world, crashed back into me like a tidal wave along with the breathtaking pain of consciousness.

"NO! LINK! _NO_! I WILL KILL YOU – _KILL YOU_!"

Laughter. "Look, puppy, your master is calling you."

"I WILL TEAR YOU APART, ZANT! LIMB. FROM. LIMB!"

_How long have we been here, and why aren't I dead?_ I peered around through half-shut eyes, immediately recognising the gloating shadow-being in the centre of a dark, square throne room. I lay on the obsidian floor, too exhausted and pain-wracked to even think about moving and investigating, although with every second, I felt my energy reserves reluctantly regrouping. She'd been suspended mid-air again by Zant's magic, practically foaming at the mouth, her eyes a dangerous red, wide and angry, directed at a limp something that seemed to be emanating a faint glow. Sitting up a little, I saw that the body belonged to a wolf, and was possibly dead. Great. I had the life zapped out of me over some mangy pet of hers? _What the hell is she screaming about?_

I reached out tentatively – and gasped. The last time I'd been awake had been upon our arrival, when we'd crashed headlong into hard, black tile at the feet of my least favourite person in the world. Now, as my hand trembled into view, I couldn't help but choke a little. The twilight had taken complete hold, turning anything I came into contact with a dusky grey – my skin, my sword, my clothes. Zant's head instantly snapped in my direction. I froze.

"Ah, our young friend is awake, is he?" he sneered, beckoning. An unseen force drew me closer, against my will; the wolf's ears had perked up at his tormentor's words, and now I could spy the sharp blue gaze of the beast. _Not dead. And probably not a pet, either_. "Would you like to play?" I spluttered a negative, but he rescinded my right to speak before the words could fully form. "How interesting. I was wondering what would happen if one of _your_ kind was exposed to twilight…. Does it hurt?" Leering. I shut my eyes against it, but the sinister force behind his words seeped in beneath the lids, trickled into my ears, made my transformed skin crawl with electric intensity.

However, he didn't exude anger, as I expected, but more detached malice. Without warning, he slammed me against one of the walls, nearest the throne, leaving me to slide gracelessly down the wall and into a concealed recess. I curled inwards against the throbbing, only managing to observe the proceedings after several long minutes of courage-gathering, and even then I had a terrible time concentrating. Midna's shrieks combined with Zant's constant taunts and what sounded like tortured whining clouded my head and made it damn near impossible to put anything together. None of it made sense. By the time I gathered enough strength to raise my head and to ignore the wild spinning motion of the room, the wolf on the floor had staggered to his feet, his cold stare fixed on Zant with such hatred that the realisation came like an explosion: The wolf was Link. I didn't know how, or why, but the way the wolf stood, carried himself, transmitted such enmity through a single look – it had to be him. He was alive. _For now, maybe_.

Zant unexpectedly turned in my direction again. "He will succumb," he said flatly. No emotion, aside from faint amusement. "In the mean time, we must teach our lovely Midna that my god is overwhelmingly superior to a wicked mutt she pulled from the gutter."

I laid down again in a careful heap, slowly, unwilling to stand the unmistakably laboured wheezing coming from the centre of the room. That madman's full attention was firmly fixed on Link, and I knew somewhere in my mind that I couldn't – shouldn't – let him suffer like that, even if I myself might be dying. Goddesses. _What would Midna do?_ For one, she wouldn't panic. And I was definitely on the verge of panicking. I shut my eyes again, could feel the familiar sensation of drowning, of deterioration. _What the hell, don't literally go to pieces!_ Not knowing what else to do and willing to try just about anything, I dove into the nearest pool of shadows and slunk, hardly concealed by my poor skills, towards the others, fighting all the way to stay alert. No one noticed. Zant appeared to be too busy kicking the shit out of Link to pay me any mind, so I crept forwards with my sword drawn, daring myself not to think. Above us, Midna's voice had started to crack, subsequently leaking sobs and choking cries.

"Stop… Zant, stop! He's innocent! He's innocent!" Maniacal laughter; I hovered near his feet, raising my sword. "Zant!" Then she declared the last thing I expected to hear: "I love you!" and the blade almost toppled out of my grasp. I paused, thinking wildly, _That is the worst train of logic I've ever heard_. But Zant had frozen as well, his fist, laden with a dark ball of energy, poised over the wolf's prone form. Slowly he spun around, the despicable glint of hope etched into her name: "Midna?"

"I-I need you, too," she stuttered uncertainly, but he'd already swept over to her, arms outstretched, mask removed. I saw her shudder visibly, though she'd pasted on a sickly sweet smile. "Zant." His embrace found her stiff but compliant, and in a momentary flash of magic I witnessed her true form pressed against him, her lips moving, caressing–

Link had moved. I spun around, sword at the ready, but he'd lunged clumsily. His fangs caught my arm as he clamped down, trying to drag me over to where the two Twili stood entwined. I tangled my free hand in his matted fur, then helped steady him as we crept along, thinking entirely too hard for my present condition and tottering drunkenly, both of us determined. Midna, still kissing Zant furiously, finally caught my eye.

With a piercing cry, she violently threw Zant aside, her impish form immediately returning with a bitter flicker. She dove at us and latched onto Link, still screaming obscenities at a stunned and very much disabled Twili, then waved her hand. Thunder roared from somewhere, sending another surge of energy crashing into Zant and knocking him askew; Midna was still screeching indecipherably even as we dissolved into thin air. _Wherever we're headed_… The thought was hazy, and developed sluggishly. _…it's freaking bright._

x

"Link!"

_She sounds scared_.

"Link, please!"

Something burned dully in my bad arm, and, if I moved just so, a terrible ache tore through my back. I rolled over painfully, and saw exactly why she was scared: a young blond man was lying on his side, eyes closed, the front of his tunic soaked in a disturbing amount of crimson. Midna had her hands twined in his clothes as she shook him gently, the tears pouring from both eyes, seen and unseen. And suddenly, my shoulder didn't hurt anymore.

"Link!"

"Midna…" We were in some sort of clearing amidst moss-covered ruins, and through an archway, I could see a single shaft of unadulterated light. It was too bright here – too light. The air had a porous quality to it that, accompanied with the vicious sunshine, made my skin break out in angry lesions. "Midna…" I reached out for her, but she snapped her teeth savagely at my outstretched fingers, which had taken on a mottled grey-green hue.

"Get away from me!" she raved crazily, clutching at the man's curled hands. I stared; he wasn't much older than myself. Well, he wouldn't be, if he were still alive. But I didn't want him to be dead, not after this. He couldn't be dead; it wouldn't be right. I'd gone through hell to rescue him – not to mention everything Midna and Zelda had gone through – and I'd be damned if he died here in this grassy clearing, clearly back in his own world, on his own soil.

"Link!" begged Midna. "Link, the Temple!" She pushed at his side, trying to set him upright, and he groaned faintly, eyes fluttering. "Link? Link, hang on- Link, grab his shoulder and help me move him-" I barely caught the change in address but still managed to heft his dead weight away from an anxious imp. The contact forced a hiss of pain out of me, but I hurriedly gritted my teeth. _Now isn't the time. _With my support and Midna pressing close, he seemed to revive marginally, enough to make his lips move silently and his fingers twitch. There was an intricate sword still strapped to his back, behind a metallic shield; his hat, nearly identical to mine, was tangled in the cross guard and matted with blood. After several long minutes, we managed to drag him up the stairs and into the second clearing, just as angry shrieks issued from the portal we'd used to get here. _Shadow beings, great._ Why the hell hadn't she sealed it off?

Midna swore. "Link, please." She floated in front of him, pointing at the pedestal. "The sword." He moved, weakly, and I grasped his arm to steady it as he reached for his weapon. As soon as the blade slipped into the slot, a subtle ringing filled the still air – and behind us, above us, a door unlocked. The second he removed the sword, however, he uttered a low moan, clutching at Midna, and slumped against me.

"Shit, Link," I panted, struggling to keep him upright. He'd completely lost consciousness – and she appeared to be on the edge of her breaking point. I pointed back the way we'd come, to where that door had to be, and gently laid Link in her tiny arms. My thoughts, the sensations – everything came in choppy bursts that I couldn't bother sorting through just yet. He was so awkwardly large in her childlike arms, his weight too much for her to handle on her own – we both realised it at the same time. She looked at me, confused, but I shook my head. If something didn't happen soon, he would die and I very vehemently did not want him to die, for the sakes of everyone involved. If Midna could just teleport him over there, I could hold off the shadow creatures, couldn't I?

Goddesses, but I had to do something. Through the archway surged the creatures, accompanied by a small detachment of goblins. If we didn't move now, they'd be on us in a matter of seconds and we'd all die in the worst possible way, on the cusp of achievement. And I really couldn't bear that. Neither could I bear the thought of resigning myself to standing by, practically presenting my head on a platter to the twilit horde charging at us. It seemed utterly ridiculous that we should die in a sunny place, and even more ridiculous because the goddesses-damned sunlight actually burnt like acid. So many things about this situation weren't right, and I'd be damned if it ended here. I'd be damned.

"Midna, teleport him up there or something."

Tearstained and grief-stricken, she nodded once – and vanished. I drew my sword and drew in a steadying breath, stomach in knots and ready to twist itself out of existence. "What have you done, Link?" I muttered to myself, even as I waved stupidly at the mass of bodies hurtling at me. I swallowed thickly: _You can't fight all of these things at once_. But I heard myself calling out to them anyway, taunting them to come and get me-

The first of the beasts went down without a problem, and the next two were easily taken care of with a clumsy leaping spin. Another clumsy swing at a soldier sent me tumbling down the stairs, into the clearing; ahead, I caught a glimpse of a crumbling stone staircase, and the cloaked forms of Midna and Link as she levitated him up the stairs, towards a higher part of the cliff face where a small arch rested. I took off after them at a dead sprint, soldiers and trolls blocking the entrance, could hear myself screaming wildly, saw my sword move crazily, watched as I passed through most of the assembly and emerged to see them stagger, having been cut internally by my blade. I didn't understand. There were tears running down my face.

The terrible grating of metal on metal filled the entire area. The door was open, I could hear it, could hear Midna calling for me to hurry, but I was forced to turn my back to them and fight off a cluster of enemies as they flooded the narrow stairwell. For a split second I vanished beneath the tide with an arrow in my side before the fear took hold and I clawed my way up the steps, half-shadow and half-Hylian. By the time I made it to the landing, my lower body had dissolved into the shadows and I found myself gliding around, horrendously confused as I slid to a halt before the door, the train of goblins hesitating at the grotesque sight of my indeterminate form. She was still on this side of the portal, weeping uncontrollably, a star-like hand reaching, reaching-

And something broke. It settled, fell into place, and I realised I couldn't go. A troll had lumbered up the staircase after me, and the soldiers were closing in, no longer intimidated by my composition; one of them had made a grab at Midna, who'd almost belatedly hit him with an energy ball. I caught a glimpse of her over my shoulder as I turned my back to her, prepared to defend their escape to the death, and in that shared instant, I knew that she knew. That she understood. And I could never be more grateful for that, for not having to pronounce my fate out loud in front of these monsters that would tear me to shreds.

The doors slammed shut and I backed up against them, feeling the sharp sting of anguish burn my throat. "Come on," I howled at them. The madness had flooded my veins, pairing with the twilight to lend me courage; the blade of my sword lit with a sickly green glow. "Come on!"


	24. chase this light

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Chase This Light by Jimmy Eat World.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

_Wasn't expecting something like this again._

I stared at the ceiling from where I lay on my back, spread-eagled on the grimy stone floor. Another dungeon. More damp. There was hay, too, in the one corner, and a few mouldy bones if I bothered really exploring. The word 'exploring' made me sick. My lips were chapped.

Leaning my head against the stone wall, I shut my eyes and painfully released a strangled sigh. It had been a while since the forest incident, and she hadn't come. No contact. No signs. I'd waited confidently the first few days, but that had been a lost cause; now, I wondered if I'd meant anything at all to them. Or if they were even still alive. Maybe Link had died? Maybe he was still recuperating. Maybe they just didn't care. Midna certainly seemed like one to take what she wanted and run, but Zelda... I expected better from her, or at least, something a little more substantial than the occasional flitting of hers, the fleeting streak through my thoughts of that brilliant, beautiful light. Best I could tell, weeks had passed, and no one had given any indication of a rescue, attempt or otherwise, unless I wanted to count Zelda. And I probably could, since I consistently found myself hanging on just for the chance of speaking with her one more time.

Wherever they were and whatever they were doing, I wanted to believe that they were safe. That Link was alive and coherent. That Midna hadn't done something stupid enough to get her killed. I didn't want that. I wanted to find them again somehow, against all odds, and discover them both alive and well – or maybe they would find me and rescue me, return the favour, fetch me as they stormed the castle on their way to kill Dragmire. Logically, that was the best plan. I didn't really expect them to go out of their way to find me, after all, but goddesses did I hope, even if by now I'd worn out what little hope I'd had initially. Time and being shut up in a goddesses-damned dungeon did that to people.

_Goddesses-damn it! _ I slammed a fist into the floor, then leant forward to prop my forehead on bent knees. Midna wasn't about to appear magically and save me again – I'd been over this over and over again. She couldn't, because she had bigger concerns now and maybe I didn't matter anymore. If I mattered, they would have come. I wouldn't be here anymore because they needed me somewhere else to do something important. And yes, that was a primary concern. Did I matter? Was I expendable? Did she think I was dead? Why hadn't they bothered to find me? Sometimes I sat in my cell in the corner, huddled against the wet and the cold and the dark, just trying to identify how I felt. But since meeting Draggy and his fantastically therapeutic brand of magic, I kept fluctuating between extremes, first caught in the throes of despair, and then tangled in the dark wool of optimism. On top of those rapid shifts and the indeterminable places between, I found myself almost unable to maintain any specific form. I didn't think it would bother me so much, the not being – but the more time I spent literally skulking in the shadows, the more I missed the sunshine and the breeze and even the feel and taste of grit in my teeth from a day's hard riding. I was sad and lonely and if no one came soon, I would die here.

Sighing with pent up frustration, I shut my eyes and concentrated on the damp silence. _Those Minion Twins will be down here soon._ I sat up a little, then moved so that I could lean against one of the other walls, farthest from the bars. My neighbour was sniffing quietly again; I'd spoken _to_ him a few times, but he'd refused to tell me anything. He just sniffled and sometimes whispered feverishly to himself, all of which only left me feeling even more isolated. I was beginning to wonder if normal Hylians could see or hear me at all, or if I'd literally become a shadow, detectable only by those touched by twilight. Even if that was the case, I figured that if I ever got bored enough at some point, I could always mess with his mind just to see where that would get me. _Her sadism must be contagious_.

Contagious or not, I missed her and the purpose she'd given me. The sense of duty had been intoxicating – without its sharp tang, I felt empty, like she had somehow taken something from me despite the fact that I had been the one to tell her to go. I felt the terrible twinge of desolation harshly now in the dimly lit cell, with the cold seeping through what was left of my clothes. She had to know I had succumbed, that Zant had accurately predicted this: I could barely tell where I started and the real shadows began – hell, if I tried hard enough, I could sink into the pools and just relax there, pretending that I couldn't be seen or hurt or removed. The clothes I'd been wearing had been subjected to an unmerciful greyscale wash: gauntlets, tunic, pants, boots – everything had taken on a different shade of grey. All of that was appropriate, considering how, up until a short while ago, I'd had the consistency of a very viscous shadow as opposed to a solid human being. I saw it as a kind of getting-into-costume sort of thing. Obviously, this had worked in my favour since only Dragmire could separate me from the background... but also a double-edged sword, since Dragmire was the only one who could hurt me as well, with his magic. And so, my time here proved to be highly entertaining; whenever Draggy paid a visit, I pretended to be Link and he repaid me in fireworks. Fancy.

I laid down quietly on my favourite patch of hay, a pile I'd very laboriously gathered upon my arrival, intent on getting a little rest. Or trying. Sleeping in a dungeon was tricky business, but I also didn't relish the thought of hallucinations from sleep-deprivation. Besides, what else was I going to do? Practise holding my breath or maybe make a few voodoo dolls? Best case scenario, I awaited rescue, and worst case, I awaited the day when I finally solidified properly and gained control over myself enough to escape. I couldn't detach myself from the shadows with any sort of ease, so I always got caught between the bars whenever I-

_'Link_.'

I froze, caught in the motion of sliding onto my side. Instantly, I became aware of the heavy stench of mildew, the sinister darkness, the freezing, slimy tiles beneath my palm. I could sense a faint white glow and that voice- "Zelda?" I said aloud, voice straining. She'd never said anything before, only hovered. Was she close? Something clattered nearby and somewhere above, I could hear a door scraping open and heavy boots on the stone stairs. _Zelda, where are you? Zelda! _A suspenseful moment passed, but instead of hearing a comforting response, I recognised the heavy footfalls as those of my other favourite person in the world. Within seconds, he swept into view, cape twirling behind him in a ridiculous grandiose gesture. I hated him for his regal attitude and the way he carried on. For Din's sake, this wasn't even his castle.

Now, though, he didn't bother with the pleasantries, but got right down to business by jamming a hand through the bars and drawing me unwillingly into his grasp. His fingers curled around my throat as he attempted to pull my head through the metal, my cheek pressing against the rust hard enough to bruise half my face. "Where are they!" he demanded. "I can feel the connection, boy. Where. Are. They!"

I simply jerked my head to the side in a blatant refusal. In all the time I'd been here and despite everything he did to me, I still refused to speak a coherent word to him, and I wasn't about to break that streak. Not only was he responsible for my miserable childhood and my exile, but he'd ordered the destruction of Ordon on _my_ account. Me. Like I was especially threatening, a cowardly fifteen-year-old with a pointed hat. And all of this because of my goddesses-damned name, as if those four letters somehow defined me.

"Ah, the Hero's Shadow," he grinned, leering. Pressing his face close enough for me to feel the hot, sticky breath, he hissed, "Where are they?" I shook my head; he shook me instead, into the bars, for several long minutes until my breath came as strangled gasps and my tunic had acquired several light grey splotches.

_Zelda_, I groaned mentally. _Don't leave me here again._ But nothing flickered back at me, and Dragmire just growled, his fingertips crackling with that dark energy that rattled the marrow in my bones. He would kill me. Never mind how desperately I wanted to take a blade and jam it into his eye socket. He would kill me and that would be the end of it, because clearly, no one was coming. They weren't coming. His grip tightened and I choked, hardly realising the situation in the sudden tide of despair. They weren't coming and he would-

He let me go. Slumping to the ground, spluttering, completely immobilised by lack of oxygen and their betrayal, I missed what he said to me, until the bars swung open, hitting me square in the head, and all of my gear clattered to the floor in a pile. Someone muttered something again, but it became a little hard to concentrate when someone decided to kick you in the ribs, especially with part of your head throbbing like a rung bell. Now I knew Dragmire intended to break me at some point, and when that failed, he would kill me. It all seemed very logical to me, a very reasoned progression. What I couldn't comprehend was the rearming gesture. I hadn't caught his words, or I might understand. But with or without his justification, once he swept out of sight and the door to the dungeons scraped open and shut once more, I scrambled to properly arm myself for the first time in goddesses only knew. Everything was there, even my final four arrows, all turned a dusky grey-orange by my transformation. Brilliant. Maybe he expected me to gallantly fight my way out of here, and die trying, and so end my life in a pointless fashion. Why else would he keep me in a dungeon instead of just snapping my neck and dumping the body? Why else return my weapons?

Shaking my head, I sat down in the corner once more, decidedly depressed. No glow lit my thoughts. I didn't even feel like calling out again, because a fat lot of good that'd do to my morale when no one answered, again. I would just have to take matters into my own hands; I'd be damned if I let Dragmire kill me now, after regaining my weapons and Zelda's brief appearance. Something had to have happened, right? Something major – she'd called my name. I had to find them or die trying. But either way, I sure as hell would not sit here and rot for the rest of eternity whether I could properly solidify or not. And so, taking a steadying breath, I forced myself through the bars, teeth gritted and body straining, until I finally collapsed into a pitiful pile of shadow on the opposite side with a terrible groan. My sniffling neighbour finally stopped sniffling and pressed his face to the front of his cell.

"H-hello?" he called. "Is-is s-someone there?"

I didn't answer for several minutes, mostly because I couldn't. When I finally regained my breath and some control over myself, I shifted into a transient form so the man could at least recognise that he wasn't talking to a figment of his imagination, but a pseudo-person. "What's your name?" I rasped at him. It took more energy than I anticipated, forcing me to brace myself against the wall between our cells. The man flinched but rather than pulling away and hiding in the corner, his eyes lit.

"Link?"

"What?" Floored by disbelief, I lunged at the bars, almost knocking noses with him. "Keaton? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Wh-what happened to you?" he asked at the same time, obviously horrified.

Great. Explanations. I felt more than a little angry that he'd rebuffed my attempts at communication, and even angrier that I'd never bothered to ask his name. This whole time, my childhood best friend had been sitting right next to me. This, however, didn't bode well, since I couldn't just come out and say, "Oh, well, you know. I ran into an enchanted mirror and got turned into a shadow because of some sort of magical Twili curse. But don't worry! I rescued the hero Link and now everything's going to be _wonderful_." I couldn't make up some stupid excuse either by saying that I was actually someone else who happened to know him. For the longest, most awkward moment ever, I just stood there, staring at him stupidly, lips pulled back in something like a grimace.

He tried again. "Why are you- I don't-"

"Dragmire." His eyes widened and I thought maybe I could just get away with that, by playing the Midna card. "I don't- I don't really want to talk about it but- goddesses, Keat, how the hell did you end up here?"

"I-I came to inquire about the massacre, and they threw me in here. I-I don't know how long I've been here… But why…? Who's-?"

"Let's just say I did something stupid," I told him flatly. "Are you hurt?" He pointed to his swollen left wrist, but he was right-handed, so no problem there. The bars were kind of an issue, though, unless... "All right, well. We're getting out of here."

Of course, only after I said it aloud did I comprehend the massive amount of stupidity in that statement. First, I'd have to somehow extract him from the cell by way of the shadows, which could very well kill him. Second, I didn't know where we were, nor where the passages were that we'd taken what seemed like years earlier. Third, I was incredibly weak. It had been hard enough freeing myself, and now I wanted to add the stress of freeing a Light-Dweller? Did I really just refer to Keaton as a Light-Dweller? Nayru, I was turning into Midna. I even had the same desperation compounding between my ribs, irresistibly compelling me to escape. I _had_ to find Zelda. I _had_ to, and if that meant taking Keaton along for the ride, then so be it.

He was mumbling something confusedly when my hand snaked out and grasped his upper arm in a vice. Within a matter of seconds, he adopted a wispy green glow, faded to a transparent image of himself, and regained his original form beside me, albeit panting heavily and sweating profusely. If he'd had any spare breath, I had no doubt he would've demanded some sort of explanation. But I liked taking advantage of situations, and rather than waiting around for him to straighten up and waste time with his questions, I steered him to the right. The stone corridor stretched away into complete darkness, the flooded sewer rushing downstream parallel to our path. I vaguely remembered the streams emptying into a cistern with a staircase that led into the castle – that had been where Midna had led me, and that was where I planned to go now. Keaton was still in the midst of hyperventilating when I began dragging him along.

"C'mon. Keep exhaling or you'll pass out. Stay close." I didn't have a full arsenal or I might have given him my sword. Instead, I drew my blade and tossed him the dagger I kept strapped inside my quiver, frantically fighting against the waves of nausea and silver spots that popped before my eyes. If I kept moving, I could ignore the malaise and the fatigue and maybe, if the goddesses didn't have it out for me, I could survive this.

Spluttering, he accepted the knife uncertainly. "L-Link, what the... what the hell is going on? Where did you- Why are you-"

"Less talking, more running!"

Behind us, only the sound of water echoed through the passage but I wasn't about to leave anything to chance by dawdling around. I really didn't have a plan other than getting to the cistern and climbing the stairs and somehow making it out of the city undetected. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for my inconvenient discovery back there and the resulting loss of valuable energy, although there wasn't much I could do about it now. We were sprinting down random corridors of mostly empty cells, mindlessly following the current; every step I took drained me a little more until I finally slowed to a dreadfully slow, halting stumble.

Keaton reined himself in immediately. "Are you all right?"

I glanced at him, his pale, sweaty-daubed face glowing in our inky surroundings. Rats chattered incessantly from unseen crevices, and the emptiness of the place magnified our harsh breathing. Neither of us were all right. He looked like he was about to faint, or worse. The heavy reality of the situation began to descend unmercifully: we were not going to make it out of here alive. Without thinking, I gasped, "You look terrible, mate."

"I do? You're a- a shadow," he retorted. He took a step towards the wall, possibly to sit down against it, when a sudden clanging made us both recoil, hearts hammering. A man in the cell directly behind us, eyes bright pinpricks in the gloom, seized the bars and screamed, "ESCAPE! PRISONER ESCAPING!" My heart leapt into my throat when I realised he couldn't see me. That didn't keep me from turning around and backhanding the fool through the bars. He stumbled backwards, stunned, but it didn't last: within a few minutes, he'd picked up his manacles and had begun hammering them against the nearest hard surface. I swore loudly, turning swiftly with Keaton on my heels on our previous path.

"Right with you," he panted, just as a distant voice I recognised as one of the trollish guards hollered, "Oy, he's gone!"

Swearing again, we hurried around the next few curves in the path until we reached a flooded intersection. I couldn't tell which way the water was flowing because of all the eddies and rapids and the thready adrenaline coursing through my veins. We slid to a halt at the edge, utterly lost and literally on our last legs. Without looking back the way we'd come, I grabbed his shoulder and squeezed – and together dove into the frothy water, the terror of being caught driving our exhausted strokes. Over the water I could clearly make out the _chick_ of arrows glancing off stone, but up ahead, I was sure I saw the cavernous cistern chamber-

Turning to tell Keaton, I snapped around just in time to see an arrow thud into his back. I plucked at the front of his tunic until I finally had a hold on his collar, nearly drowning us both in the clumsy process. "Go go gogogogo-" he choked out, waving vaguely ahead with his good hand. We weren't swimming anymore, just treading water, the current just strong enough to sweep us gently towards our destination. "L-leave-"

"Keaton!" I shrieked at him. "We're here! We made it! For Din's sake-"

"GOT HIM!"

I looked up and past him as another arrow sliced right through his throat, his eyes fixed on mine even as the life flickered and died in them. I stopped breathing. Hands tangled in the leather sheath strap bucked across his chest, I only struggled to free myself when pairs of narrowed eyes loomed out of the misty gloom on either bank. The dagger I'd lent him left a deep gash across the back of my wrist; as I extricated myself from the corpse, a fourth arrow severed the strap and left it clutched in my hands as the body floated free and sank, driven under by the sudden force of the uneven waterway. Shocked, I let the water carry me along, occasionally scraping along the rough bottom, barely enough breath in my body to retain consciousness.

What the hell would I tell Effie?

Faint shouting reached me but the current had deposited me on a bank of debris in the cistern. It was a circular room, with creaking ropes, slimy with mildew, strung between broken pieces of a staircase. I was almost content to just lie there and die – and then that damn light of hers appeared and Zelda, her voice unbearably pain-wracked, whispered simply, '_Please_.' I responded almost immediately by forcing myself onto all fours and tottering in the direction of the shattered staircase. Engrossed in surreal tunnel-vision, I didn't think, but automatically crawled up the slick steps, somehow focused on reaching the rope anchored just ahead where the staircase ceased abruptly – until a large hand curled into my collar, effortlessly putting an end to my movements. His fingers found my bruised throat, my feet dangled, the sword useless at my back… I blacked out, then came to as he shoved a fistful of crackling black something into my stomach. I didn't feel like fighting back, but something nevertheless drove me to move, to lash out, to kick him feebly even as the debilitating shocks racked my frame. If he wanted to kill me, then that was his business; he'd been at it long enough, still hadn't succeeded, and I was getting impatient. I'd already tried escaping, and all it had gotten me was a pair of bloody hands and a difficult story.

My vision flickered. My bones ached. My head throbbed. I wanted this to end. He seemed to recognise the look on my face, and decided that action was his best bet. Shaking me roughly, he repeatedly slammed me into the stone wall to emphasise his parting words: "I. Will. Find. You." Then he unceremoniously tossed me aside into the sewer. Swish of his cloak, and he was gone. I scrabbled out of the shallow water and sprawled panting on the cement bank, allowing myself to sink into the deepest, darkest shadows I could find – and then I called out with the primal hope of the dying.


	25. fake palindromes

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Fake Palindromes by Andrew Bird.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

The room felt old, and the light was distorted, as if filtered through spider webs. Something was jostling my shoulder roughly, gradually forcing the weariness to abate. My eyes flickered open. Blue eyes stared back curiously, a little too close for comfort. Startled, I squawked and attempted to scramble backwards, but the owner of the eyes firmly clasped his hands over my shoulders and squeezed. Grinning wolfishly, he jerked his head to his left and made a _pff_ noise.

"What are you doing to him?" demanded a familiar voice suddenly. Midna appeared at the young man's shoulder, her arms crossed and hips thrown forward in annoyance. "So you're awake. C'mon, get up. I've got another fairy over there if you need it, but you should be fine; the twilight's settled, as I'm sure you've noticed. Link, don't just stare at him – go polish your sword or something."

The man grunted, apparently irritated, but nevertheless stood and loped off purposefully into some dark corner. I propped myself up slowly and stared at the marble hall, the strange, bronze bell structure near the centre, the high ceilings and the beautiful marble staircase that marched up to a pair of carved gold doors – at my startling reflection in the tiles. Midna growled.

"Speak, damn it. I don't need two mutes wandering around here."

"My clothes-" I muttered, voice raspy. The light here stung the eyes and burnt any exposed skin; I raised an arm up against it, but Midna hastily brought it back down, muttering something about shadows and temples. Something nagged at the back of my mind insistently; frustrated, I yanked at the hem of an unfamiliar black tunic, sans holes or bloodstains, about two sizes too big. The grey breeches I recognised as my own, and the grey-washed gauntlets as well, but I didn't remember the leather belt tied around my waist to keep the bagginess of the tunic at bay. "Whose clothes are these? What happened? Zelda?"

_'I am here_,' she responded cheerfully, relief radiating from her bright presence. I felt myself sighing mechanically on her behalf. Midna just chuckled irritatingly with her tiny hands pressed against that wicked little mouth of hers. "You spend three weeks as a prisoner in Hyrule Castle and the first thing that comes out of your mouth..." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in mild disbelief. "I found the tunic in your pack, and you were holding the belt when I found you. I put your other things-"

"When you...?" An intense feeling of sickness descended on me and I tore the belt off as if it burnt. "This isn't- Midna, that's not mine, that's- that was-"

_'Shh. Calm down, Link. You are safe now_.'

"That's easy for you to say!" I exploded. The man – Link – spun around to stare from where he crouched by the double doors, gleaming sword and rag in hand. "I just- I was- He-he-!" More than anything in the world, I wanted to sit down and cry. I didn't know why, or what for, but that urge to cry became almost intolerable with the way Midna watched me uncertainly, her visible eye wide with surprise and doubt. "He's _dead_! Keaton is dead and Ganondorf- Oh my goddesses," I practically sobbed hysterically, hands flailing wildly even as Midna attempted to embrace me. Everything was so clear now. "Din, but he-he _wanted _me to find you-"

"Link," she said sharply, "leave." And he quietly, suspiciously rose and slipped through the doors without a word. In the meantime her arms wrapped around my shoulders, but the support she offered wasn't enough to keep me on my feet; I sank back to the polished floor, robbed of breath by despair. She held my face in her hands with sad eyes. "Look at me. It's okay. You're safe and Ganondorf can't hurt you here. I- I am so sorry I couldn't find you sooner. He masked your signature and Link's only just recovered-"

I shoved her away, curled in on myself, absently clutching Keaton's mended sheath strap. "He promised he'll find me. You should have left me there. He's going to-"

_'We are in the Temple of Time; this is a safe place, Link. Please don't worry_.'

"I can't not worry." I couldn't concentrate enough to reply telepathically, not with my thoughts so scattered. "You should have let me die-"

"Listen to yourself!" She shook me gently. "You're trying to convince me that I did the wrong thing in saving your miserable life. Cut it out and look around you- None of us would be here if it weren't for you. You bought us time. You saved his life. You saved _mine_, and we're going to rescue Zelda, too. I'm sorry your friend died, but the point is that you lived and-"

"He wanted you to find me. He's going to kill us all," I moaned. "He's going to find you because of me. He's going to kill everyone and-"

Her ponytail landed a punch that caught most of my nose and part of my eye and sent me sprawling across the floor, stunned. "Get a hold of yourself, kid!" Grasping my shoulders tightly, she tugged me upright until I wobbled embarrassingly on feet left askew by her blow. "Just _listen_ to us! You're working yourself up over nothing-"

Zelda added a forceful, '_Let him find us. Link will defeat him_.'

_And I'll just sit here and watch, the facilitator in all of this._ Clutching my face, I glared at Midna. I didn't want to admit it, but the punch managed to knock a bit of sense into me again. I understood that Dragmire's words were real and not just an empty threat; he planned to use me as a trace. He'd find them by the shadow they cast. Brilliant. The bodies were really stacking up on my account, from the countless monsters to the detachment of guards to half the village – and now that the tally included Keaton, I couldn't let it extend to Midna and Link as well. I turned the leather over in my hands, that penetrating guilt burning a hole through my palms from the inside out, but maybe the girls were right. Dragmire wanted Link dead for a reason, so he had to be some form of trouble. _If he's so skilled, how did he end up captured in the first place?_

"Does…" I swallowed thickly. There was no dignified way to recover from that breakdown, so I decided not to bother. "Does Link know… about me? Who I am? What- Why did it take you so long to find me?" She sighed heavily and dropped her hands from my shoulders to her sides, and I took it as a no and maybe as a trace of guilt. "Why haven't you told him? What's he think, that I'm just one of your creatures, one of your Twili? What _happened_?"

Midna laughed bitterly. "The whole story? Melodrama and chivalry." She settled herself into a cross-legged position mid-air, stretched luxuriously, her eye scrutinising, suddenly hard and challenging. "We'll talk later, I promise."

"What?" _You can't be serious_, I wanted to scream at her. _You can't just leave me in the dark!_ "I- I was there for _three weeks_- How did you- I-I need- Is this _permanent_?" I shoved a hand under her nose, wriggling the ghastly fingers. The skin appeared pale enough to resemble the dead."Is this real? I'm supposed to walk around like-" I almost backed away, her look was so murderous. Spinning around, I almost flinched at the sight of the compact figure slouched expectantly in the doorway, silently curious and coincidentally curiously silent. Link snuffled, cast a sideways look at Midna – and when he began to approach us, ears perked, I knew I was in trouble. Big. Trouble.

"Now is not the time to discuss our little misadventures," she hissed at me, her eyes flitting almost fearfully him. "You will sit down and shut up, and listen _silently _if I have something to tell you. The situation is too fragile for you to come between us and run your mouth. I didn't rescue you-"

'_Link_,' warned Zelda.

"Sure took you long enough to make up your mind about that," I countered heatedly. "Do you have any idea what I had to go through, just to protect you? What games am I supposed to-"

Snarling, she lunged at me and bowled me over, her tiny hands pinning my shoulders to the tile floor. "Link, don't do this-" I opened my mouth again but her effing ponytail slammed into my face a second time, this time only catching my cheekbone. _Damn, that is going to leave a mark._ I lashed out and knocked her backwards; she shrieked, eye blazing, ready to pounce again.

"I deserve to know just what the bloody hell is going on!" I shouted at her, dragging a dark sleeve across a bloody nose. Staring incredulously at her handiwork, I found myself stupidly facing a nearly rabid imp. "If you don't tell me, I'll go to Link and-"

"And what, stand there impatiently while he plays charades with you?"

Said person had put a hand on her shoulder, seemingly redirecting all the fury in her. He didn't look particularly pleased with our little exchange, and even less amused by Midna's last comment, though he refrained from any sort of defence or complaint. I stared, amazed, as she bared her teeth one more time in warning before turning away into a convenient pool of shadows. I could still see her sulking and throwing a tantrum, could feel Zelda redirecting her attention. He sat down on the floor with that intricate sword of his balanced across his knees, cloth in hand. Then he took one glance at me and offered the cloth with a vague gesture at my face.

"Thanks," I muttered. When I settled down next to him, he smiled faintly at something and winked. I wanted to apologise to him for my earlier behaviour but I didn't know how to bring something like that up when I just wanted to forget it. I also didn't quite know how to handle a stranger winking at me. I awkwardly brushed my fingers over my face, tracing my mouth and the stubble I found there as I studied him. He had dirty blond – nearly brown – hair and a hat like mine, sharp blue eyes, an age somewhere close to my own. We were about the same size, really; I hated to think of it, but if I stood next to him in my transient form, I really did look like his animated shadow. Except, instead of the shadow being silent, it was the other way around. I still felt bitter. "Can you talk?"

His flat stare clearly said, "I am not amused," but he nodded anyway.

"So you just don't like to."

He tossed his head this time, a careless shrug. So he wasn't really a mute, as Midna had claimed. I distantly remembered her explaining his strange laconic attitude, but in person, it seemed excessive, almost unbelievable. Sure, Midna could apparently read his thoughts, but what did that leave me, or anyone else, with? Charades, as she'd said? Sighing, I tossed the bloodied cloth aside and took to examining the results of the twilight once again.

It was a sick fascination, really; first I looked into the shiny marble tiles, then into the back of Link's proffered shield. I touched my hair, still uncertain if it was real – surely no one had this as a legitimate hair colour. But then again, was anything about me legitimate anymore? According to my reflection in the shield, I was a walking corpse – complete with grey pallor, as the sticky black had retreated – with the bonus of red-orange eyes that upset me somewhat, since the green had been my last connection to my mother. I wished Midna would simply explain everything now, from the twilight to how I was supposed to react to Link to how he got into the Zant predicament in the first place. None of it made any sense to me. Frustrated, I turned to Zelda.

_You know, I held on because of you._

'_I hoped you would_.'

I meant to say something more meaningful after that, maybe as a form of punctuation, but I couldn't finish the thought. She hovered expectantly for a moment before dissipating to her usual intensity, just a hint of light in the periphery. Desperately I wanted answers. I didn't know the words. So I allowed myself to dissolve, subconsciously copying Midna's primary defence mechanism to Link's chagrin. As if in response, she exploded out of his shadow and brushed his face with her fingers.

"C'mon then. We should finish up here before you get too fidgety."

I watched him grin and take a step towards the staircase to the doors, but I materialised in his path. "Wait." He nodded, a tiny incline of his head. "Midna, what happened while I was... locked up?"

A deep breath later, she let out in an unbroken stream, "After I shut the door, we managed to patch him up without any major complications, but I couldn't sense you from here until a few days ago, when you started relying more on the twilight. I heard you soon after that, and Zelda helped screen a warping trip. I brought you here." She paused briefly and her mouth quirked; whatever was about to come out of her mouth, I knew I wouldn't enjoy it. "We're changing your name. And Link says thank you for helping us." Link thrust a hand at me in response to Midna's narration; I shook it, hesitantly, then joined him in staring determinedly at the still-irritated imp.

The look on his face told me all I needed to know: she hadn't told him anything aside from some ridiculous lie about my origins and why she had to disappear to save a supposed stranger. Zelda's light flickered in another, gentler warning, implying some sort of suggestion about patience. Patience. I knew she could feel my anxiety. But I also knew that I was entirely too worn out to deal with the situation anymore, the fire in my veins reduced to embers. I'd held on all this time just to give up now with a tiny sigh. "Fine. What's this about my name?"

Link's stare never faltered. Midna, however, forced her glare onto me instead, her fang glittering in the eerie light. "I can't go around with two Links. And he was here first, so you need a new name." She cocked her head. "You're like Dark Link – the true twilit version. You've even got a hat and a sword… well, Link's other sword." I noticed that she didn't say "the hat" or "the sword," and wondered if the unspoken 'Third-Wheel' option trumped 'Dark Link.' His eyes narrowed at the mention of his sword, but didn't comment until, suddenly:

"Sh-shadow," Link added hoarsely. I'd never heard him speak before but the stammer surprised me. Maybe speaking made him nervous, because he stuttered; he'd already admitted that gestures and noncommittal grunts were more his thing. And then what he'd said crashed back into my thoughts, and I abandoned my pondering of his speech capabilities, because he'd repeated him and the last thing I wanted to do was relive that dark, dank time.

"No. I'm not your shadow," I insisted, a nearly desperate note tingeing my voice. The thought had crossed my mind earlier, but I couldn't bear to hear it spoken aloud like this. "I'm a person too-"

He looked vaguely surprised at my assertion, but Midna interrupted instead with, "It's a great disguise. You know it's true. You're either 'Dark' or 'Shadow' from now on, so choose wisely."

_She's serious about this. Damn. So much for the, 'But I'm a human being, too!' argument._ "So what, I'll either be Dark, or DL, or Shadow… or Shad, for short. Or something else equally stupid?"

Despite Link's snickering, Midna tossed me her amused expression. "You're Dark Link, then. We'll come up with a nickname later, since you think that's such a cumbersome mouthful. Link, meet Dark Link. We can pretend he's your evil twin."

We shook again, but he didn't look at all serious about it. Rolling his eyes and making that weird snuffling noise again, he waved at Midna and jerked his head towards the door I blocked. The angry glint had resurfaced in his expression. Zelda subtly murmured to let him pass while Midna told him, "I'll be there in a minute, but we aren't going to discuss what you want." He vanished inside the next room without comment. she instantly turned on me, her hair rising above the stone headdress and flexing its fingers suggestively.

"I haven't told him," reiterated Midna through gritted teeth, "about anything yet. About how we met. About what happened. About how twenty years have mysteriously passed and he still looks like an eighteen-year-old boy. As far as he's concerned, you are the by-product of some terrible magic."

I stared. "So I _have_ been demoted to some creature! Why the _hell_ haven't you told him? Just when are you going to tell us everything, because I sure as hell would love to know. Look at me, Midna." I held up a hand, spread the fingers, clenched an unnaturally white-grey fist. "Look at me. I've endured all of this shit for _you_, and you can't even tell me the truth! And the same goes for him – is this how your treat your friends?"

"Link." That pleading tone had covered her words in honey, but I refused to listen reasonably. "Link, I can't do this to him so soon. And once he finds out Ilia is your mother, and she's dead… That all his friends are dead, that Ordon suffered a massacre- Think of him. Please. He needs to acclimatise to his routine again. I will tell him, and you, when things have calmed down… but not right now."

I shook my head. "When we get out of here – and I mean, as soon as we get to the end of this place, we're going to sit down and have a nice little chat. Otherwise I'll tell him everything I know. Everything."

"You can't tell him." Flashing dangerously, her fangs bit down hard on her bottom lip. "Please. I promise. We will talk, when it's safe. Please, you can't tell him. He'll be devastated, and I don't want him to hurt like that, not-"

Something shifted loudly, and we both looked up to see Link giving us a solid glare from the top of the flight of stairs. Midna spun around angrily, snapping, "I said we'd be there in a minute!" Then to me, "You will say nothing."

Deciding that I wouldn't get much else out of her in this state, I let it go and followed her to where Link stood, impatiently twisting his sword in his hands. I drew my own, just in case his fidgeting might be a veiled warning. When I looked over my shoulder, back to an entrance I never traditionally entered, I realised I had no idea where I was, aside from some vague descriptions and similarities to that clearing. The place seemed like a cavernous entrance hall, with an empty area directly preceding a short staircase that led to an upper landing lined with long-empty braziers. Two alcoves, one of which housing a strange statue of some sort, flanked the double doors; the entire room had a warm feeling to it, a kind of aura reinforced by the bronze, cream, and gold of the unintelligible carving-inlaid architecture. That terrible, burning ethereal light from the clearing, albeit considerably less intense, pervaded the place.

"Hey, guys…" Link had been poised to open the door again; Midna peered at me from his shadow. "What exactly is the Temple of Time?"

I saw Midna's mouth open, but it was Link who replied instead, simply stating with that curious stammer, "Mmm-m-magic." He slipped through the doorway with Midna in tow, leaving me to hesitate on the other side.

_Zelda..._

'_Yes, Link._'

_Never mind._


	26. 42

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: 42 by Coldplay.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"So let me get this straight: you can control these statue things with that wand?"

"It's not a wand," she insisted, pointing at the heavy blue staff in Link's hands; "it's a _rod_. The Dominion Rod. It's not whatever fairy fantasy princess wand you have in mind."

Zelda giggled, but I rolled my eyes and turned away, to watch delightedly as Link frivolously smashed through a marble divider with the foyer statue's buddy. He'd picked it up again moments ago, Midna having explained that he'd had to leave the thing while she disappeared to fetch me – something about not wanting him to traverse the temple alone. Link had obviously disagreed with her attitude, as she threw a fit when she realised the statue had mysteriously advanced several rooms in her absence. It was like watching two lovers quarrel, if one were a mime.

For the most part, I liked the Temple of Time. It consisted of several floors of maze-like rooms full of low marble barriers, staircases, and the occasional store of weapons and artefacts or secluded altar. Unlike the mansion at Snowpeak, this place was eerily untouched, so frozen in time that not even the dust in the air settled on the slick banisters or bright, smooth mouldings that traced the outlines of the interior. It almost felt haunted on account of the utter emptiness – like all the people inside had suddenly vanished but were bound to return any moment, or like the priests and priestesses and aides and worshippers were waiting elsewhere. And then there was the part I hated, that constant creeping sensation reinforced by the abundance of spiders scuttling around in literal _flocks_ from darkened corner to corner, accompanied by that terrible scratching of hairy legs on the flawless tile.

The overall impression of the place only improved upon the realisation that Link had completed most of it and we were that much closer to getting the truth out of Midna. From what I could tell, we were on the upper floors of the temple, attempting to return the statue to the foyer in order to activate some sort of switch or something, since those sorts of things always involved switches. Want to lock a door downstairs? Install a switch and hide a massive, awkwardly-shaped statue with a moveable hammer several floors up. Sure, it was a clever idea, if you were the semi-intoxicated person who needed to hide something important in a pinch. It absolutely sucked as the finder though – except, I wasn't the finder in this scenario, so I reserved the right to do the one thing I did best, distracting others with my mouth. It just took more energy than I anticipated to form the words and let them out.

Even now, I was trying to come up with something witty to say, and I might have succeeded if it weren't for that goddesses-damned statue. It _thunk_ed along the marble in time to Link's footsteps, the rhythm periodically broken by the harsh smashing of the hammer against something delightfully smashable. Like my toes. I'd drawn my sword to gesture at a nearby gatepost, when the hammer suddenly came crashing down, a mere hairsbreadth from my boots. Mouth frozen in some mindless rant, I stared in shock as he peered around the other side of the statue, grinned once with that hard, steely expression that reminded me uncomfortably of a predator, then jerked his head at a collection of metal pots with holes in them sitting quietly beside us on the scale.

Aside from the bronze bell in the centre of the room on the lower level, a pair of gold scales decorated most of the area, bridging the gap between the staircase that wrapped around from the main floor to an obscured loft and the door we just entered through. We somehow had to pile enough weight on the free scale in order to level it out and move the statue across and on our merry way. Link's solution involved some pots that bore a striking resemblance to Midna's head.

"Can't you throw that green thing-" He shook his head, then waved in some ridiculous fashion that Midna translated to: "Go move them onto the other one. We have to balance the weight."

"Got a way with words, that one has."

"Stop acting like that," she admonished. "You're acting like a child."

Maybe. But I wasn't exactly sure how I should act in a situation like this, where I was the intruder. I'd finally helped Midna achieve her goal but never at any point in our quest did I ask what would happen now, in the aftermath when she recovered her man. And I knew it hadn't been made official, but the sentiment was there, lurking around the fuzzy edges of our strange little expedition. I'd come into their reunion about halfway through the completion of this puzzle, the odd interloper in their adventure and coincidentally, potentially responsible for their discovery and deaths. They didn't need me and honestly, I didn't want the responsibility. I knew Link was trying to adjust to my presence, but in the end, it came down to the ultimate decision that I'd leave once he finished here. If Ganondorf wanted to find me, then let him find me, alone. Besides, instead of having a real hand in the action, a sensation that I had hopelessly become addicted to, I was left to stand on the sidelines and watch, or help marginally, as Link dispatched enemies with such ease the guilt left me awestruck. They didn't need me. _She_ didn't need me anymore. Maybe they never did. I was just someone in the way and I couldn't bear that, childishness be damned.

'_You are wrong._'

I snorted, garnering a sideways look from Link, but as usual, he made no comment. As I moved the stupid-looking pots, he bounded across the scales to the staircase side and began knocking more off a higher shelf with his magic wand. I followed suit, although I ended up tossing the pots onto the closer scale as he brought them down onto the tile floor. It struck me as odd that the tile didn't crack upon contact, or even scratch. Not that I cared, in particular, since this was most likely another magical temple with another magical monster hidden deep within its mysterious depths – a monster that I thankfully would not get the chance to play with, since Link had reclaimed his position as king of the playground. Trying in vain to hide my disgruntled frown, I stood alongside the pots to even out the sides, allowing Link to guide Buddy the ugly statue across the gap and onto my scale. As soon as he _thunk_ed onto the bed, nearly knocking me over with the force of impact – how the hell could this thing support a statue that heavy in the first place? – Link joined me on the scale and started tossing the pots onto the next ledge, the floor, the other scale, anywhere but where we stood.

Midna muttered something. He glanced at her sharply, a strange look on his face, but he shook his head in reply. I didn't care for charades and sign language. I jumped over the side of the scale to further disperse the weight and landed with a disgusting _squish_ on a pack of nasty little spiders. After a few minutes' worth of flailing my sword around and trying to look skilled, or even professional, I ended up leaning against a nearby wall while Link activated the strange bell transport device by moving the statue onto the carved bed.

"What would happen if I stood in there too?" He hesitated, about to deposit Buddy onto the pad, shrugging. "Can I try it?"

"Yeah, that's right, let's test some crackpot Oocca invention," snapped Midna. She gestured for him to proceed. "I _just_ rescued you – I don't feel like scraping your sorry ass off the walls this time."

"Actually," I responded disdainfully, "I'd rather you not touch my sorry ass. That's like sexual harassment." _If looks could kill_, I thought dryly. She turned her nose away, into the air, then froze as she realised Link had vanished. Unimpressed, I pointed to the little gazebo that housed the bell, on top of which Link sat, smirking and waving annoyingly. "Yes, yes, we can see you. What's up there?" That, predictably, got me nowhere, since he only waved his hands and made some sort of spinning gesture with his arms. I stormed up the steps again and onto the side of the scale, only to stare at a clawshot target and a previously unnoticed spinner track that curved from the top of the gazebo, around part of the room's perimeter, to the upper loft. My hand darted to my belt before I could think.

"_Idiot_," Midna hissed. "It's _his_, not yours. I even told you that you were only borrowing!"

"Yeah well, I kind of forgot."

Link had this look about him that spoke louder than anything he could've said. He looked downright betrayed, confused, and I felt bad for him, felt like I needed to clarify what had happened. But the firm NO conveyed by her eye stopped me in my tracks. Noticing this exchange, he stared accusingly again at Midna, who merely shrugged and whispered, "Later. I promise," to which he simply scoffed. Next second, he'd thrown the clawshot at my head with way more force than necessary. Someone was angry.

I snatched it out of the air, buckling awkwardly as I balanced on the edge of the scale, before swiftly joining him on the gazebo. He took back the weapon almost instantly: here I was, some strange shadow mishap (as she had so kindly demoted me) admitting that I had hijacked his hard-won tools. If I were him I'd be more than a little curious – what _else_ had this character hijacked? I'd been similarly upset over the repossession of the bow, so I could kind of relate. When he whipped out the spinner, I didn't even bother asking but stood there awkwardly, eyes cast to the ground. His efforts of inclusion did not in any way extend to his equipment, and I could respect that boundary.

_That's a lie._

'_Your attitude is suffering_,' quipped Zelda smartly.

_It's a character flaw._

He was halfway onto the spinner when I said suddenly, "Wait. Hold it right there for a second." Turning curiously, the anger almost left his eyes. Then I reached for the spinner, diverting at the last second to the skewed shadow it cast; when I moved, a shadowy replica came away in my hands. Midna snorted.

"Show off."

I grinned, hefting the new weapon. "I didn't think it'd work." Link had his eyes narrowed, his hands checking over the original for any strange defects. I wanted to tell him this was a truce, not the hare-brained offence he might perceive. We could both do this, with a bit of compromise. "You think this copy is just temporary?"

Shrugging a shoulder, Midna pointed to the spinner's conspicuously absent shadow. "I think you're putting a little too much stock into twilight. Your weapons, your clothes – they were in direct contact with you during the changes inflicted by pure twilight. You're essentially just borrowing. But you're doing a bang-up job of securing your title as Dark Link," she added snidely.

I brushed off the comment and tested the shadow in the track, and upon finding that it functioned properly, rode it around to what turned out to be a mostly empty storage area, including a resident poe that I dispatched without much trouble. As soon as the shadow spinner left my possession, it dissolved into the tiles to rejoin Link's upon its arrival. Little Miss Sunshine laughed derisively at the disappointment evident in my expression.

_How's that for a suffering attitude?_

I felt the warmth of a smile. '_Clever_.'

Midna huffed. Link went ahead and kicked open an ornate chest in the corner, but glowered bitterly at the rupee and within seconds crossed instead to what looked like a broom closet set into the far wall beneath a tiny window. A fallen crest and part of a scorched tapestry littered the nearby tiles, agonisingly close to a row of intact ceramic pots that called to me. Why he didn't pocket the damn money was beyond me, but who was I to argue? He could decapitate me in probably two seconds flat, counting the time it took to unsheathe his sword and pull what she'd called a Helm Splitter. The guy had skills I could never hope to contend with. He almost made me nervous, just standing-

"Oh holy hell, what the-" I swung wildly at the squealing mass of flesh as it charged, its helmet slightly rusted but still considerably dangerous and aimed right at me. Hurriedly sidestepping away from the edge, the helmasaur managed to knock me into the floor, and in response, I frantically took hold of the closest thing – one of those metal Midna pots – and brought it crashing down over the helmeted head. The little body dropped like a rock. Link grunted somewhere off to my left, from within what was decidedly not a broom closet, or at the very least a very roomy closet. "Shit. Shit! Freaking _shit_." Storming the entrance with the stupid little helmet in hand, I tossed it at his head. "Thanks for the warning, man! That thing almost knocked me clear off the landing!"

The grin that lit his face almost seemed sheepish. Almost. He narrowed his eyes the slightest bit and what looked like a fang peeked out of the side of his mouth. Within another moment, he'd shot his way up a level, to another loft, and leaned over the edge to stare expectantly, pointing at a small collection of helmasaur plates that littered the floor. Trust this deserted temple to have a helmasaur petting zoo. Din.

"What do you want them for, eh?" And I hated the fact that I sounded more than a little disgusted, maybe even a little scared. _They are dead. Calm down._ He just shook his head and pointed again at the pieces. "Fine. Get ready." I picked up the one closest to me, and chucked it as hard as I could at that mocking expression he wore, but instead of seeing the metal careen into his face with a satisfying smack, he caught it with one hand and disappeared for a moment. Metallic clamouring echoed in the tiny room, and upon his reappearance a moment later, I threw the next one up to him; he had to be rearranging things up there. How or why, I had no idea and probably didn't want to know. He caught this one too, set it down on something I couldn't see, and within seconds had opened an elaborate bronze gate that revealed another little alcove. I started for the enormous black chest when Link landed behind me with a solid _thump_ of leather boots on dusty stone, and accordingly I stopped. But when he didn't react to my opening of the chest, I triumphantly held up the massive key.

"Finally." Midna snatched it from me and floated towards the door. "Let's go."

I grinned. Link had cocked his head, mimicking her with exaggerated facial expressions and lip-synched words. Spinning around in apparent offence at the delighted silence, she scowled dangerously at him, but he only smirked at her with that awful predatory smile of his. I'd never felt more like a third wheel in my life – and a tiny third wheel at that, one that wasn't even necessary and possibly didn't even touch the ground. Maybe I was the busted spare, since I'd already served my purpose. And then Zelda actually _growled_.

'_Listen to yourself_,' she complained. '_This is absurd. You are still a valuable member of this group and will always remain as such_.'

_Thanks for the reassurance, princess_, I bit right back, almost walking into the wall on my way back out of the broom closet room. _But if you don't mind, I'd like to sulk in peace. I'll be leaving once I get the whole story_.

'_I am fully capable of explaining the details of the situation. Presently_.'

_Don't taunt me. It's not ladylike_.

That little light of hers pulsated with what could have been wicked joy, eliciting a deep snarl from me. Midna immediately turned around to hiss, "Come _on_," from the doorway, and I followed the pair down the stairs, out of the scale room, and into the familiar maze-room with the spinners and fire-eyed statues. I hated this room. Not only did it remind me of a basement full of target-practice equipment, but it was here, on the trip to retrieve Buddy, that I'd realised that my bow was missing. I'd turned to inquire about it when I saw Link take it out, in its original state, aim at a diamond switch clear across the room and fire. With my bow. This was about where I'd discovered the possibility of possessing shadow replicas of original weapons, which apparently included my beloved bow. Thus, Link wielded the bow in its original state, and I had the twilit version tucked into my quiver.

Now, Link turned to me with an expression akin to leering. I glared with obvious irritation, then shot the diamond on the opposite side of the room with more force than necessary. The switches controlled huge rolling marble barriers that partitioned the room like mobile blockades, coincidentally creating a maze as one alternately shot each of the diamonds to move the marble. He picked up Buddy from the bell beside the far diamond, smashed through the last barrier, and then placed the statue on another pressure switch that operated the electric current that blocked the next staircase. It occurred to me then, as he reanimated the one-eyed, hammer-wielding statue, that we must have looked absolutely ridiculous: me, a liberated shadow, leading a huge hopping statue and a green-clad kid in a floppy hat. Link guided it down the flight of stairs, _clunk-clunk_ing behind me at such a rapid tempo that I was terrified it might flip forward and suddenly crash into me, sending us both flying down the stairs and most likely leaving me squished. I wondered vaguely if my transient form could sustain injuries like that. I turned to ask Midna, but she had her arms crossed in his shadow and a troubled look set into her eye.

By the time we got the statue into the turnstile elevator and back to the first floor of the entire temple, just a door away from the foyer, the anticipation flooding my veins was making my hair stand on end. We were so close to the end of this place, and from there, I would be free. Midna would tell her little story and I could go back to Ren at some point. In actuality, I had it all planned out so that I would draw Ganondorf's attention while Link and Midna finished whatever they had left of their quest, and then return to Ordon once they finally freed Hyrule. I didn't have the details yet so I could only formulate a rough sketch, but there it was, in all its optimistic glory. Zelda disagreed wholeheartedly with every aspect.

'_That isn't the answer. Your assistance is completely necessary, even if you refuse to admit it now_.'

In that instant I wanted to turn to her, wanted to face a physical presence and explain properly why it absolutely _was_ the answer. But that wasn't an option, because Zelda was only a faint glow in my _mind_, and I would probably never get to know her real form. What the hell was with princesses and false bodies? Talk about false advertising. If the country could see her now, as a part of Midna, Hyrule might just accept Ganondorf as a legitimate monarch. Great Din, but light and telepathy and whatever was no way to hold a serious conversation. Faltering slightly, I shut my eyes tight.

_Yeah, we'll see how much you need my help when I really screw things up_.


	27. boston

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Boston by Augustana.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

We were lost in the temple's catacombs, I couldn't stop thinking about the castle's dungeons, Link had his stupid wand out to beat back some of the sticky blackness, and Midna wouldn't stop lecturing me about the dangers of running headlong into electrical currents, even after shouting 'Shadow power ON!' I'd thought it had been funny. I'd also thought that I could pass through the electricity without major complications. Obviously, I had not accounted for the shock of entering a substance in transient form, scaring myself, and accidentally solidifying smack dab in the middle of a very strong, very painful current.

Ha ha.

"-just don't understand how you can be so _stupid_ on a daily basis. You could've killed yourself-"

Link turned to stare at her over his shoulder, eyebrows set in an unimpressed line at the amount of noise issuing from her mouth. Waving with irritation, he gestured pointedly to the winding passages pressing in on either side, almost as if to say, "Shut up. The walls are listening." We weren't the most stealth-conscious people in the business, but of all people she should know not to shout in a place that gave off such a blatantly ominous air. I pointed at his reaction with mounting irritation. "See, look. He doesn't want to hear you either. You've been complaining about the same thing since we left that room upstairs."

"Because you are a _moron_," she bit back at me. "If you didn't pull such ridiculous stunts-"

I stopped in my tracks to face her. "Will you shut up? Just shut up. Stop talking. Farore, Nayru, and _Din_."

Her offended look offered considerable satisfaction. Then I remembered the smell of rotting hay and had to swallow the urge to vomit, and then there was Keaton, too, his pale, sunken face looming out from behind those rusted metal bars, only because thinking about that kept me from concentrating on the cold, the dark, and the silence of a blatantly enclosed subterranean space. Granted, several shafts of light filtered in through a handful of holes in the ceiling, but for the most part, if it weren't for the twilight I wouldn't have been able to see my own hand in front of my face. I resented it a little, but I was beginning to think I preferred it that way, being able to see. It eased a bit of the tension induced by the surroundings, which, after a good deal of walking, eventually turned into a cold, open space full of broken statues and shattered sculptures.

Link, being himself and a bit too high-strung, had ventured ahead of us and reached the clearing first; when we found him poking at bits of stone and attempting to read the names on the nearest tombs, I sat down in one of the bright patches and held my head. This was not turning out the way I wanted it to, and while I didn't exactly know the correct or desired 'way' yet, it definitely didn't include a creepy necropolis. I didn't even understand why such a nice, shiny place like the Temple of Time had such an awful thing buried beneath it, or why a considerable portion of that awful thing was taken up by unfinished catacombs, with crumbling, unreadable tombs stacked upon each other. The names had been scrawled in an old form of Hylian; we were wandering around in a city of the dead, and we couldn't even read the names of the residents. I picked up a wrecked grave marker from beside my boot and traced the unfamiliar runes carved into the dusty sandstone. By no means did the twilight illuminate the darkness of the world – on the contrary, it only made it marginally easier to see, a pittance when I couldn't concentrate because something kept jangling in unseen corners, around every other bend, like manacles.

'_There are greater matters at hand_.'

Yeah, yeah. But as much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I got up, fingers fumbling absently with the fletching on an arrow, and almost got some obnoxious words out when Midna gasped, "Link!" Stumbling to my feet, I whipped around in time to see Link drawing his sword and settling into a determined battle stance. I drew my bow and watched as his face turned upwards in slow-motion, to the heavily webbed ceiling of the cavern- webbed? Oh, Nayru. _Don't tell me we're about to fight a host of spiders_. My bowhand wouldn't stop shaking, but not on account of the cobwebs, or at least, I hoped not. And then just to complicate the problem of being trapped in a basement full of corpses, I spun around again only to find a humungous freaking _spider_ scurrying around above us, and rather than having a reasoned, calculated response- I shot it through the eye without thinking.

Amazingly enough, that single arrow brought the monster tumbling to the flagstones, within range of a cluster of unbroken hammer-wielding statues. In an instant Link brought one to life and sent the hammer crashing down onto the soft underbelly of the spider. Stock-still in my original position, I watched silently as the legs crumpled inwards, the arachnid hissing now and again – and when it suddenly flipped right-side up and darted back up the wall, I actually rolled my eyes in drained exasperation, despite the fact that I was, with the exception of an arrow, an observer. Observer wasn't so bad, either, when I thought about it. Or at least, being the archer as opposed to the guy doing the smashing and slashing over in the crowd of baby spiders. I sniped at them from where I stood, detached, experimenting by pulling up bits of the surrounding shadows for use as projectiles. The shadow-arrows resulted in fantastic explosions of orange and green that had a greater damage radius than Link's spinning moves could ever hope to accomplish. He must have realised as much because after the first few shots he glared in my direction and dashed aside, leading the horde right towards me. Another shot or two later and the babies were nothing more than a couple piles of iridescent ash. Lovely.

Someone laughed briefly in the gloom and it struck me as odd, that Link would laugh and grunt and growl but he didn't speak. Hardly any words. A part of me wanted to ask him why he didn't talk, but the logically thinking part of me understood the danger in that. He'd probably gut me in the blink of an eye, and I kind of enjoyed having intestines. His sword had no business on the wrong side of my tunic. Instead, his sword should have been jammed firmly in the eye of that creepy-crawly menace by now, but rather than doing anything useful to our survival, he was standing by, staring incredulously at a stream of _fire_ issuing from said menace. _Now this is just the icing on the cake – what kind of freak show _is_ this?_

Rolling hurriedly out of the way and accidentally drawing the fire anyway, I waved wildly at Link. "Shoot the damn thing! Shoot it!" His arrow _ping_ed off the lid just as the monster shut its eye and I swore loudly. Since when did spiders even have eyelids? Din. We regrouped with our backs against the unfinished tombs, watching warily as it crawled to a far corner and began spraying more fire, lighting the natural cavern walls an unnatural orange; this time, our combined efforts didn't miss. Without missing a beat, Link took control of the nearest statue and brought the hammer down hard on the spider, but it recovered faster than anticipated, although it was kind enough to drop us a few sympathy prizes in the form of more eggs. I cut through them with my sword this time while Link nocked an arrow, swinging it from side to side in preparation as the monster shifted around, alternately blocking the beams of light. The fire didn't even have time to reach the floor before he brought the spider tumbling heavily to the flagstones. And then it exploded, and Midna let out a sigh of relief – and I almost broke down laughing at Link's what-the-bloody-hell-_is_-that face when the eye reappeared, surrounded by an entourage of babies which, after the initial shock, he easily dispatched.

Zelda picked that moment to point out quietly, '_That went much better than you expected_.' Her glow actually seemed to move, to flurry a little, the opposite of the reassurance I knew she wanted to convey. What did reassure me was the fact that we were finished here, now that the eye had finally exploded and coalesced into another Mirror shard. If the temples we visited were in effect infested with creatures created from the shards, then we were also essentially fighting the Mirror itself in order to reassemble it. That was all I needed now, even more exposure to that damned thing. Maybe if I hugged this next piece, my hair might gain a mind of its own as well.

Her light shivered again in something like agreement. '_Link, the evil within those shards... It's more evil than you can imagine._'

_That's very reassuring, y'know, telling people that_. _But since we've been turning over every other stone in Hyrule for those shards, I'm guessing the 'more evil than I can imagine' isn't really all that important_.

She just smiled softly. '_You would guess correctly, then._'

And as if on cue, Midna muttered at the same time with a lame nod in my direction, "You know, we could be assembling something truly terrible here…" A small laugh, another nod, but she sounded odd and I didn't like it, as if she were speaking to us from underwater. I liked her next words even less. "I don't know how to get you out of here."

Link immediately wheeled around, sword shining in the light glimmering at, mocking us from above. I wasn't exactly quaking in my boots, but I could definitely feel a kind of canned panic coming on, inflating within my chest like a swallowed balloon. The distraction of the battle behind us, the jangling returned at the edges of my hearing, and if I looked hard enough, I could just glimpse Keaton's pale, terrified face peeking out around the edges of the tombs. At the back of my mind, a voice suspiciously similar to Zelda's kept saying to calm down and breathe out and maybe sit down, but my limbs wouldn't move. He stared, frozen for a different reason, pointed at the floor, then stared some more when she shook her head. I blinked, grinning half-heartedly with disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?" No answer. "Tell me we are _not_ trapped here. Why can't we just- why can't we just go back the way we came and- and blow open the rubble?" Now, we all witnessed just how completely the entranceway collapsed from a redirected bomb-arrow, all the result of another minor tiff with Link over weapons. We all understood we couldn't get out that way without subjecting Link to full-on twilight, and even then that wouldn't help us since he'd just turn into a wolf. We couldn't warp, either, thanks to Zant's sabotage. We were trapped here unless someone figured something out.

'_Link..._.'

She still didn't say anything.

Without bothering to comment, I strode back to the door, a cold, tight sensation burning through my veins. Maybe it was the twilight building up, getting ready to explode, but I'd never felt so intensely scared in my life and it made absolutely no sense. I couldn't bear the thought of being trapped here, even if there wasn't hay spread all over the cold, grimy flagstones or- Fingers in my hair again, yanking at the roots.

'_Calm down. Everything will be okay_.'

"Somebody please get us out of here."

She looked mildly disturbed, but still refused to answer.

"Midna, please – we can't be _trapped_."

Loosely grasping my shoulder, Link shook his head and tried to say something – but I spun out of his reach, now crumpling my hat. "Tell me we aren't trapped. We aren't trapped." The worst part was, I fully recognised the overreaction and I could do nothing to stop it. Just a roaring wave coming at me, this ugly panic.

"Link, you need to calm down," was all she allowed. My throat tightened. He was digging through his pockets beside me, his hand back on my shoulder. How the hell could anything in his pockets save us now? Why wasn't he breaking down? Hadn't he been shut up in some dark place too? The more I thought about it and the less he reacted, the guiltier I felt. And with that guilt came the crashing force of the despair, and finally I sank to my knees, hands clutching my ears, eyes shut tight against the encroaching darkness.

With a strangled laugh, I held up palms that emitted a very subtle green glow and instantly thought of Keaton. _I'm scared of the dark and I'm made of twilight_._ This is irony at its finest_.

'_Link! Stop speaking nonsense. Please. Open your eyes. Listen to me._'

_I can't- Zelda I can't-_

"Hmm?" Offering Ooccoo to me, his middle fingers stroking her neck, he smiled. I shut my eyes again, and woke up in the bright mossy place again, my breathing heavy and my vision blurry. My hands clutched at wet grass. Low chatter filtered through the porous air, soft murmurs that I might've missed until I heard my name. I got up slowly from where I was lying near the doors that must have led into the Temple of Time, and descended the broken staircase to the clearing that still held a few poignant reminders of the horde of monsters and the prelude to the stint in the dungeons. When I reached the foot of the stairs, I spied Link sitting cross-legged on a Triforce engraving nearby the flight to the pedestal room. Midna hovered beside him, her hands gesturing as she spoke, but I broke the spell as she noticed at my approach.

"You're awake."

"Yes, although my head feels like it's been swabbed out and filled with rags." Appraising me with a cool gaze, her hand fluttered to Link's slumped shoulder; he glanced at me with a flash of blue, and I sat down to join him, hands splayed behind me for balance. "I hope you haven't started the party without me?"

"The Dominion Rod stopped working."

I stared. "What? Did you hit it on something?" Link refused to look at me, refused to break his steady imploring gaze focused on Midna. Even without eavesdropping, I could get the general gist of their conversation and decided to run with it. What did I care about the magic wand anyway? The fewer things Link brought to life, the better, because the awful intensity he displayed sometimes was enough to fuel an entire army, a possibility only through the Dominion Rod, now thankfully disabled.

He seemed to expand a little, as if my added stare strengthened him. "Go on, then. Don't stop on account of little old Dark Link. He's curious too."

"Awake." His eyes had snapped to her with a challenge. "N-n-now."

His words stirred something cold and sickly and terribly hot within my memory. It was right then that I could tell she was fighting a terrible internal battle, and losing: the light in her eye changed, from this steady blaze to a sad flickering. I knew she didn't want to, and somewhere else, I also knew it would be wrong for her to tell him my story. He had to hear it, from me, the same way I had to hear it, from her; I cleared my throat and stood, wandering along the stone walls so I wouldn't have to see his face.

"I'm not… goddesses, it sounds impossible and maybe stupid, but I'm not the shadow-thing you think I am." A curious silence, almost suspicious. Midna coughed, hummed in warning, but I ploughed on: "Ilia and Colin were my parents," I said, my voice beginning strong but quickly fading. "I met Midna, and then there was the Mirror-" And then I kept talking, because the words were the only defence I had against the stare boring into my back.

x

He remained completely silent, eyes fixed determinedly on the grass because we had each somehow betrayed him. I didn't blame him. I didn't blame her. Hell, I didn't even feel sorry for myself anymore, at least not to any significant degree, after hearing about his own story. I'd known bits and pieces from before, mostly relating to his capture and Midna's crazy little plight for revenge – but this time, she did it justice and narrated his previous misadventures. Told about how he'd had to fight off the twilight, been transformed into a wolf, search for goddesses-damned electrified _bugs_. He'd had to save her from exposure to a light spirit, and that had ended with Zelda's sacrifice and transfer of her spirit and the Triforce.

And then I'd been left to explain why I wasn't really some sort of Twili pet she'd stumbled across – that I was a real person, an Ordonian; that several of his best friends were now dead, and the village pillaged; that I'd been forced to encroach on his world while he was away, and clumsily at that.

That twenty years had passed without his knowledge.

I could feel the pain I was inflicting even as I spoke, even as I tried to justify things that couldn't be justified or sugar-coated or made any less bitter to swallow. The irony came in our surroundings, the serene woods with healing magic so prevalent in the atmosphere. It hurt that neither of us could afford to soften the blows, but he nevertheless listened attentively – what else could he do? And when we had finished, I couldn't help telling her, "Finally."

She seemed so sad that I almost wished I could recant. "We- we couldn't go on like this. I-I'm sorry, Link, I really am."

I managed a half-hearted look of acceptance. Belief. I knew he'd said something to her, in whatever laconic way he'd developed. Link turned away, shivered, then looked at me with muted surprise. "Ilia… is-is… your m-m-mother?"

"Yes… Before the Mirror, I had her eyes," I replied softly. "She gave me this hat – found it with my dad's things. He taught me archery, but she didn't approve, ever-" A bark of laughter. "My little brother Renado is still alive, as far as I know. I remember my dad mentioning something about Aunt Beth and Uncle Malo working in Castletown, and some foreign country respectively. Something about expanding the business, but I don't think I've ever met them." Shaking my head, I sought to clarify more, my voice pain-filled and strained: "The latest raid wasn't conducted by- this was… It was _sanctioned_ by the government, by Dragmire. I-I killed a whole detachment from the Imperial Army but most of the village had already died. The counsellor betrayed us."

He looked shell-shocked, his eyes glossy. I suddenly didn't want to tell him anymore. "D-dead." Shaking his head with something like regret, he looked at Midna, who was hovering close to his shoulder, as if trying to identify any falsehoods in my story with her approval or disapproval. She just wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly and with such guilt I almost looked away. His reasoning with reality was almost too painful to watch, but with morbid curiosity I continued to observe the situation, waiting for something to break. _Anything_ to break, even if it was me.

I got up and left them alone, moving instead up the stairs and into the brightest clearing with the pedestal. There were dried flecks of blood caked onto the stone and in the grass nearby; I picked at them with a fingernail. I felt like I'd been gypped somehow, that it was unfortunate how I'd come away from all of this mess with just a change in appearance.

I would look like this for the rest of my life – she hadn't disputed it at all. Staring absently at the streaming rays, I felt the whirl of thoughts hit me: How could I tell Effie about Keaton if I looked like this? How could I have let him die like that: a young ranch hand from a little hamlet called Ordon, this tiny little place at the edge of civilization, killed in a crazy pursuit through the dank dungeons of Hyrule Castle? What the hell kind of logic was that? What the hell kind of _karma_ was that? How could I go back to Ordon with this? I felt trapped. I didn't just _look_ like a shadow anymore – I'd become one. There wasn't a place for me anymore. I might as well never go back.

But what about Renado?

What about my _life_?

I shot an arrow through the first tree trunk I saw – kept shooting, until all I had were bits of shadow pulled up from my own essence. If I nailed enough of myself to that tree… if I… if I could take enough of this twilight away, I could fix myself. I could make it work, couldn't I? I didn't want to be locked into any more rooms with any more hay or any more prisoners. I didn't want to sit by myself in the dark anymore, or hope for someone to save me, or feel the sudden bursts of pain from fistfuls of magic. I didn't want this; I didn't want to go with them because I knew I couldn't. Dragmire had promised to find me, and he wouldn't break that promise for the world, especially if he believed me to be in their company still.

But it wasn't like I had a choice. The rod was broken, Link looked broken, I felt like I was close to being a part of something, caught somewhere in between but close to an end. I could see the pair from where I sat, could see the way she'd wrapped herself around him, trying to make him say something remotely reassuring about his mental state. He looked catatonic. An overwhelming wave of sympathy crashed into me, but I somehow avoided the downward pull of emotions. I split the bark with my next shot. This was no time for grief.


	28. happiness

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Happiness by The Fray.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"You want us to rebuild _this_?" I threw the hammer she'd given me at the pile of dusty junk that she had so graciously led us to, after much fanfare upstairs from Luda. It looked like a stick-figure chicken drawn first with thick charcoal, and then cobbled together with bits of stray firewood. "How the hell do you expect us put this _together_? What the hell's it even supposed to, for Nayru's sake?"

Link snuffled with irritation, also pitching his tools at the base of the massive pile, although I suspected his anger stemmed from a different source. I watched as he settled down against the wall and glared stonily at the exasperated Midna. Predictably, she took the bait. "Oh will you stop your sulking? You suddenly appear again and you don't expect a huge commotion? The world didn't stop when you left it." He looked away, and she returned her angry stare to me. Holding up my hands, I scooped up the hammer somewhat reluctantly. "Go on," she snapped, "do something."

I whacked at a nearby piece of wood, causing a miniature avalanche of dust and parts. Then I splayed both my hands and wiggled the fingers with a soft "wooo."

"You are _useless_!" She smacked herself on the forehead. "Link, will you get up and _do_ something! This won't fix itself, and Mr. Capable over here has proven his inability to even-"

The hammer thudded between us. "Don't play your name games with me, Midna," I growled at her. "I'm not your lackey. Link isn't your lackey either. You ran us all around the country to find stupid little runes, led us down here and made it sound like the key to effing everything would be sitting right here, happily awaiting us – and then we see _this_ pile of shit. How do you expect us to react?"

"With a little more maturity!"

"Maturity?" Link snuffled in the background; I pushed on, "You've got to be kidding me. Tell us what the hell this is even for, and maybe I'll do some actual figuring."

Her arms crossed tightly, she spun away, and Link muttered, "S-sulking," to which she responded by attempting to yank his hat from his head. Grinning wolfishly, he dodged the clumsy attack with a solid jerk, satisfied in leering at her while she fumed silently. Then she gestured sharply at the hulking mass and deadpanned, "It's a cannon and we're going to shoot ourselves into the sky."

The silence was stifling. Glancing across the room at him, I could tell he was on the fence about snorting derisively and taking her seriously; he blinked at me once. I choked a little: "You want to _what_?"

With a withering glare, she repeated herself. Link moved after several minutes, getting up slowly and pacing his way up the stairs and out of the room as a wolf, and by the sound of the door upstairs, outside as a man. Neither of us bothered following him, instead turning our attention back to the mess of rust and dry rot festering at the bottom of a long-forgotten, repurposed well. From where I stood after circling the pieces, I could hear her sigh heavily, and when I poked my head around, I saw her rub her face tiredly.

"He doesn't like the idea, I'm guessing," I muttered.

She shook her head, raising a tired eye to survey the scene. "No. He doesn't like what it means. We'll have to rebuild it here, and Luda's no doubt sent for Beth, possibly Malo…" Then to herself, "And I needed this kept quiet."

"The place is deserted except for Luda. Besides, it's not your fault she caught us."

Midna's head jerked. "I could have… He should have stayed in the Sacred Grove. It was safer there for him, but no, he insisted on coming along to find this pieces-"

"He's missed twenty years. He's been held captive for several days – he's gonna want to get out, to help." I wrenched several pieces of wood out of the pile and set them on the floor according to size. "I mean," I stated quietly, almost as an afterthought but hoping she would catch the meaning, "I did kind of steal his thunder."

She didn't disagree, and I knew suddenly with the icy weight of certainty that I'd ruined something. It didn't come as a surprise, but it was nevertheless unwelcome. I rubbed awkwardly at my nape and scuffed the dirt a bit, then, when I realised no relief would be forthcoming, moved to poke apart a knotted rope on the floor. This wasn't an uncomfortable situation at all, with us just circling each other in such a grimy basement. If it weren't for the strange shafts of light, and the dust from the dirt floor- Shifting nervously, I finally made a decision. I knew she would follow me – what else could she do?

"I'm going upstairs."

It didn't take particularly long to stumble across Link; he was sitting quietly on a ledge overlooking a small pool just above the shaman's house, munching intermittently on an apple – the loud crunching had drawn my attention first, and without thinking I'd wandered over to his hiding place. By the sparkle out of the corner of my eye, I knew Midna lurked somewhere in the shadows, just watching and waiting for something to happen. But Link didn't move, even when I sat down next to him and kicked a few rocks into the water. I'd just laid myself down for a peaceful nap when he spoke unexpectedly.

"M-Midn-na?"

Blinking at the bright sunlight, I glanced unthinkingly to my left and just caught sight of her vehement head-shake. Link saw the look and growled softly, then murmured, "L-leave, pl-please-lease."

I didn't feel accommodating either after that little episode, but I knew that she wouldn't think twice about lurking in the near vicinity, within earshot and possibly within sight. She knew that I could see her; Link apparently knew too. I waved vaguely in her direction: "Midna, bugger off. Go on. You heard him." She didn't make a sound, but I could see her quite plainly wavering in the shadows. "Midna. I promise I won't get him into any sort of trouble. I can see you." We waited together for several minutes in the sun, just sitting back with our hands behind us as supports, our heads turned towards the patterns in the water.

Another minute passed. Link raised a hand and flicked the fingers violently back the way he'd come, a nasty scowl on his face, mumbling something without issuing any intelligible sounds. I thought for a moment that she might be lurking closer than anticipated – but a quick sweep of the surrounding area disproved that. He looked agitated, with the way he kept running his fingers through his hair, his hat lying on the ground beside him.

"Are you all right?"

"Mmff."

"Look, mate, I'm gonna try my best here, but I don't really know you, and it's…" I stopped, desperate to find the appropriate words. "…I don't want to, I don't know, _offend_ you or anything-"

He snorted. "N-not. 'M fine."

This wasn't awkward at all. _How am I supposed to carry on a predominately one-way conversation?_ "Good to know. So, uh. What's up with you and Midna? Did she piss you off?"

"Eh. Al-always." A barking laugh, then: "L-l- mmm, l-ied. Sh-she's… st-stutter."

"You mean you haven't always had it?" I skipped a rock, and forced myself to ignore the distorted reflection of a curious shadow. Couldn't she tell he didn't want her around right now? Hell, I didn't want her around right now. The sudden surge of resentment wasn't entirely unfamiliar, but I did feel as though it belonged, like it was justified. Like she should have just gone back to the basement to figure out some miracle reconstruction plan. "I just figured you didn't talk because of it. My brother stuttered when he was younger, after my mother died. It went away, but for a while he refused to talk. Other kids gave him hell for it."

A look of sadness passed over his face at the mention of Ilia, but his shoulder just dipped in acknowledgement. "Mm, no. Ch-changed b-b-back with-with it."

"You must hate it then, I guess. I know I would," I admitted. He'd shut his eyes. We were both lying on our backs, just breathing in the afternoon and the peacefulness and the soft _scritch_-_scratch_ of the sand being blown around. Somewhere down below, the horses whinnied and a spring trickled and something tinkled with delicate music – and two girls giggled and a door creaked and birds cawed. Where _were_ we? I felt him tap my shoulder lightly, and suddenly we were both sitting up, feet dangling over the edge, our hands braced on the ledge.

He sighed.

"I'm sorry." Looking up quizzically, he said, _Why?_ without speaking, surprisingly increasing my comfort with the situation. His silence felt something like acceptance. "I don't know. I feel like I owe you an apology." When he shrugged again, the action just confirmed my earlier thoughts, the self-reproachful ones that singled me out as the root of the problem, the source of the strangeness between him and Midna – the origin of _everything_. I felt so responsible, and yet I still hesitated to leave them. "I… You weren't… really, _real_ to me until Zant. It didn't really feel like you were real. To me. To be honest, I think I've grown up believing you were something my parents and Talo and the whole village cooked up, like a sort of legend or something, because there didn't seem to be any point to anything they… did."

Shaking my head, I managed a soft disbelieving laugh. "There was… is, I guess, a tradition of naming sons 'Link,' but when I was five, Dragmire's government started citizenship tests where-where every kid in every village would have to journey to the castle. No one named Link ever returned – except for me, and that was only because I gave a false name. For a while... for a while, it was like, as if people believed the name related directly to heroics or intense feats of awesomeness or something. Like I could go out and save the village and make them proud, just because I had your name. My parents, they said they knew you, that they had what they said were your things, but – I-I don't know. I guess I just didn't understand what had… had happened. None of it seemed real until I was stuck one day in a cell under Hylia Lake, counting pebbles. And now, I feel like I've… like I've, I don't know, ruined everything you worked for – everything, between you and Midna and your quest and – it's like, like I've set everything off balance."

He waited a while before doing anything remotely resembling an answer, or at least acknowledgement. Both of us were silent. The shimmering reflection had vanished. "Mmf," Link finally grunted, shifting his grip on the sandy rock. His fingers scrabbled mindlessly over the dirt, tracing tiny paths into the loose sand until they converged in recognisable patterns. "'S'fine. M-m-m-move on-on."

I scoffed, "Easy for you to say." Then I shook my head. "Maybe not. …Thanks." I just received a nod for my trouble, but it was good enough for me. _For once_. I laid back again, staring into the sky and the dusky colours that had invaded the furthermost reaches. Maybe moving on was the right decision; it had, after all, come from Link, and he seemed to have survived considerable danger with the only damage showing in his stutter. Maybe we weren't gypped after all. Maybe we were just lucky, for now. We hadn't lost each other, for the little bit of worth I had, and Midna was still on civil terms with us – no one had been seriously maimed, unless my conversion counted. We were alive and intact and together, and in general, we were okay. It was okay. Link was right: Don't think about it, and move on. Just live. Maybe that was how he did it.

The thought struck me suddenly. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Laughing lightly, he shrugged. "Y-you?"

I just grinned, "As I'll ever be." Grinned, because he wouldn't answer directly – that wasn't how he worked. Besides, we'd have to be okay; we'd find a way to survive. We had to, or there would be no more story, no more skirmishes, no more losses or triumphs or stalemates. It would just end… And it couldn't just end, not like that.

He'd fallen asleep beside me. I was nearly asleep myself, stretched out contentedly in the lingering warmth, hat behind my head and arms folded for added cushioning. _Better get back to little Miss Grumpy and check the progress of that cannon thing._ Or I could stay and sleep. Then I shook my head and stood quietly, stared for several long seconds at Link's utterly emotionless face, and tramped my way back to the healer's house. Link would be fine on his own, and besides, a little sleep in the sunshine would do him some good. He'd looked pale under his tan, like the colour had washed out days ago. I dribbled the remnants of his apple for a while, until finally kicking it into a patch of grass. Midna's shimmer, I noticed as I glanced over my shoulder, had immediately taken up residence in Link's shadow.

_Now_, I thought to myself, _if you have any luck at all, Luda'll serve an amazing dinner_. And maybe, for at least for a little while, we could pretend we were normal and take his advice; we could pretend that sunlit naps and secret hugs and dusty rooms, friendly strangers and old friends and crisp apples, loyal horses and soft grass and creaking saddles – that they were real, and superficial, and completely uninvolved with any part of the dirty business of death and destruction and a never-ending quest for something we just might find. Maybe we could live in the moment – and just live.

Haha, right.


	29. journey of the featherless

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Journey of the Featherless by Cloud Cult.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Midna's 'miracle reconstruction plan,' as I recalled terming it a day ago, when the debacle first began, ended up far more amusing than anticipated. As Link put it, the two of us were simply too incompetent to do anything other than tinker with the broken bits of the smashed cannon, and thereby incapable of reconstructing it – leaving darling Midna to first stare incredulously, then work her crazy shadow magic on the pieces out of "sheer necessity." She managed to drag the entire thing outside to a small cliff top above the spring, which was where the three of us happened to be standing now, each of us with tired, blank expressions and dusty, callus-ridden hands. It had been a disgustingly long day, and that was not even counting the attack this afternoon.

Yeah, this afternoon, when we got ambushed by a couple of Midna's cousins and a few Imperial Guards because Dragmire always kept his promises and I'd dawdled around too long here. After waking up in the healer's house with an impressive bandage around half my head, I discovered that, immediately after shouting a warning to Midna and nearly taking out Link's eye with an arrow, I had rather brilliantly been struck with something flat and heavy, knocked from the ledge above the spring we'd been standing on, and left for dead in the middle of the magical pond in which, thankfully for me, it was quite impossible to drown. Link, on the other hand, had managed to take out half the guard before being forced to transform into his handy little lupine form and ripping the shadows to bits; of course, he only sustained minor injury. Midna still wasn't impressed with my performance, and seemed to be on the verge of requesting that I practice dodging things for future reference.

_…Despite the fact it was mostly _your_ fault for not paying attention to what was behind you, and instead focusing a little too closely on the reflection in the magical pool._

'_That is a valid point, you know._'

_You're doing a fantastic job as my conscience, Zelda_.

She smiled. '_I do try._'

Conscientious observations aside, the colours were fascinating, and lunch had been spectacular – minus the barely edible mystery bread and equally horrific soup, prepared by the one and only capricious Beth. Incidentally, the woman arrived early this morning, some time before dawn, and some while after Link decided to embark on a raucous nightmare involving Zant, Midna and an octorok. After stumbling half-asleep and disoriented from the shared room, I'd caught the frantic messenger in the front hall, the darling woman I would soon know as Beth in tow – the same "Aunt Beth" I'd never actually met.

Right off the bat I identified her as a heavy-lidded, middle-aged woman with provocative gestures and stylish clothes. She must have been used to demanding things and getting what she wanted, because as soon as I appeared – quite by accident – she tossed her coat at me and demanded to see Link, despite the fact that it was incredibly late and she'd already managed to insult me with the second words out of her mouth: "Oh, what a quaint little servant. What spell did they use on you, I wonder?"

Just for that, I despised her. I was in no way a servant, and the fact that I had been mistaken for some spell or glamour or something just added insult to injury. It was like she'd told me I didn't exist anymore in any acceptable capacity. The woman didn't even wait for me to surface from the shock, either; instead, she'd taken a seat at a couch and spread herself out like she owned the place. Minutes later, before I could warn him, a dishevelled Link appeared reluctantly, still clad in nightclothes and cold sweat and a ghostly pallor. I assumed that he wasn't exactly thrilled with her appearance either, given his stiff posture, and Midna – she just looked livid from her place in his shadow. That should have been my first clue that our cover had been blown by the well-intentioned Luda.

I had Beth pinned as a vain idiot. True to form, the flirting exploded as soon as her eyes found him, and I really felt for sorry for the guy – felt sorry and sympathized and respected him for sitting there wordlessly and just letting her fawn all over him. Her questions were downright painful. Hell, _she_ was downright painful – and she kept touching him – his arm, his shoulder, his face. Like she couldn't believe he was there. I couldn't believe he was _still_ there. And I wanted it to stop, for her to go away. He looked lost. Then about an hour in, I fell asleep in my hiding place, up in the rafters, because Midna had made it clear that I shouldn't have shown myself in the first place, even it had been an accident. Besides, from up there, we had a perfect view of all entrances and exits, and a golden opportunity to pounce on the late-night caller in case of attack. The way the house was organised, the hallways that led to the infirmary and upstairs to the shaman's quarters led off from the main circular room that also contained the hearth and kitchen. So, poised overhead in the shadows that no one ever bothered to look at, we had a perfect angle. No one ever looked up. Little Miss Beth could try to eat him, after all. I honestly wouldn't put anything past her and those madly batting lashes of hers.

She left by noon – albeit, only after a few less-than-subtle hints from Luda, and after Beth absolutely insisted on cooking something. As soon as her coat whipped out of sight and the door shut again, Link and I had gone out to the cliff top over the spring for a proper lunch in the sunshine, but not long after, Midna's cousins came by for a party and forgot to bring the cake. This was where I'd called out for darling Midna, and instead gotten knocked over the edge into the pretty pond I'd been staring at for the past twenty or so minutes prior. And as if none of that was enough, shortly after I regained consciousness Midna demanded that we go out and work on the goddesses-damned cannon, up on _same_ ridiculous cliff top I'd fallen from, with rusty, broken tools, and no logical plan whatsoever – just one of her, "Well, _do_ something!" orders. Obviously, the facts that we had already been found by one of Link's old friends, attacked by a band of reconnaissance soldiers, _and_ flagged by yet another shadow portal, didn't support the idea of simply moving the goddesses-damned cannon to somewhere more secluded. Logic didn't work with her, apparently. We should have guessed.

But we didn't. And going over the day did not make me feel any more accomplished, or any less exhausted. I felt like I'd been beat around the face and neck with a heavy club AND a sack full of rupees. Judging by Link's crossed arms and constant twitching, I safely concluded that he shared my feelings. Midna just hovered nearby looking smug as usual.

It was getting chilly up on the ledge, my arm hurt again from the added trauma of construction, no one was saying anything, and Link looked about ready to harass someone with the blade of his sword for breathing on him too hard. I was kind of tempted to, just to see if any injury sustained from such an attack could grant me a bed-rest order. "Okay. So we did it." _You've always had a knack for stating the painfully obvious. _He grunted, apparently displeased with my vocalisation. To compensate, I added somewhat lamely, "What now?"

Midna huffed exasperatedly, as if our next move were hopelessly obvious; I watched with vague fascination as she flailed her arms around, muttering distractedly, "I don't know, Link, maybe we should, you know, _use the damn thing._" Her body hung suspended, like a puppet. I felt too drained to make a witty comeback. Then I remembered how ridiculous that sounded and sat down heavily to cradle my bad arm and brood about how to bring up the whole leaving thing.

Link _fff_'d at her, a response that was met with a penetrating glare. She looked at me next, but I had shut my eyes just as her head turned, and laid in the dust pretending to ignore her. "Don't just lie there. Din, but you are so useless-"

"I'm _tired_. In case you've forgotten, you dragged me off my recovery bed to finish this thing."

"You're no help."

_Somebody's still grouchy._

"So you've said. Actually," I quipped instead, an afterthought occurring that I would probably regret later, "there's no way we can face anything if we do get to wherever we're going, since we're all so damn tired. I'm saving you a bit of trouble. I'm saving you-" Yawn. "-the breath you would be wasting by yelling at us for being inattentive in the event of an attack." She just growled, a gesture that was renewed after Link followed my lead; I could hear the faint rustlings as he stretched out in the dirt and mussed his hair. I couldn't see the face she was making anymore because I refused to look, but I didn't think I particularly wanted to see her expression. This was Midna, after all, and I felt like I had a right to be bitchy after being forced to piece together a massive ramshackle weapon after being pushed off a fecking cliff.

With slightly more force than before, the situation hit me again. And I didn't like it. We were loitering on an exposed ledge amidst the rising stars, and with a deactivated shadow portal hanging ominously over our heads. Down below laid the remains of what we'd decided were reconnaissance soldiers; they had been a small squad of about fifteen, reinforced with two shadow beings. She'd said we'd shoot ourselves into the sky – and I could tell by the numerous apprehensive glances secretly shared with Link that neither of us hoped she was serious.

What else was I supposed to think, when she suggested floating around in the clouds? It was just unnatural – and considering my earlier escapade involving heights, I didn't have the best of luck with high places and safe landings. Link didn't look especially keen about the trip either, but I could tell just by his lack of serious opposition that he trusted her beyond anything, and would follow her to the ends of the earth and back, even if it meant leaving the ground for a little while. At least, I hoped it was a little while – because I happened to trust him, for some unfathomable reason, and by transitive property, it meant that I had to go along with some of the more hare-brained schemes. …Despite the fact I had now descended to 'Third-Wheel' status, which, in my hopeful opinion, relieved me of having to strictly follow whatever Miss Shadow-fiend said. That was for Link to handle, and for me to reluctantly nod at, and hope that I wouldn't get myself killed in the no-doubt irritating process.

As soon as I blinked my eyes open, she pointed at the end of the cannon where a crude clawshot target in the form of loose netting was just visible. I stared, and Link actually asked, "R-really?" from our spots on the ground, because if she thought we were going to just crawl inside a contraption that _we_ had jumbled together after a long night and an even longer day, then she was sorely out of luck. Apparently, launching ourselves from a cannon and its euphemism, 'leaving the ground' were not interchangeable. I had a terrible feeling about this. I could also sense a door opening somewhere.

"Really," she snapped, tossing handfuls of dust at us. I didn't think her gesture was spectacularly persuasive in any sense, but the dirt shower wouldn't let up until Link moved. He, however, turned onto his stomach and pulled his hat down, clearly uncooperative. "Lazy bum. C'mon, move. We have to leave now. Your pockets are full to bursting with new supplies – we've already overstayed our welcome. Just look at yourselves, with all the bandages and bruises."

"This is my exact argument _against_ doing anything," I retorted, sitting up and making nasty faces at her. "I feel like I got run over a couple times by a – by a… I have no idea!" Throwing up my hands, I turned so that my back was to her, and crossed my arms in a pout. "I'm not going. I'm not climbing into that piece of junk, I'm not shooting myself into oblivion… I'm _tired-_!"

I never expected her hair to hit me full in the face, nearly nudging me over the cliff. Again. _If you want to kill me, can't you pick a more creative way? _"Get up and stop whining." Needless to say, Midna looked livid, though Link's expression seemed almost encouraging to me, with his almost-grin and raised eyebrows. When he abruptly walked away from the scene, I felt like I was just waking up to a terrible reality. "Get up. You either come with us and actually do something useful for yourself and everyone involved, or you stay here and act as decoy – until Zant finds you or Ganondorf kills you or- _Argh_!" Mouth open slightly, I watched with sick fascination as she threateningly wielded her ponytail again, simultaneously growling, "Get in the goddesses-damned cannon. I have saved your ass too many times to let you kill yourself now."

"'I have saved your ass too many times… nah-nah-nah nah-nah!'" I spat back at her. If she wanted to embark on one of her mind games, I was _not_ in the mood to play along like my usual foolish self. Tired and sick and kind of hungry and stuck out on a chilly cliff top and _beaten_ from a fall _and _my supposed-friend- "Yeah, like you initially didn't have _any_ involvement in the stickier situations-"

"Stop acting childish!" We both turned briefly at Link's startled yelp, but she immediately continued with barely-controlled fury. "You're one to talk, you reckless fool! I'm trying to help you- We're trying to accomplish something here, and you're not helping by repeatedly standing in the way-"

Standing, I moved so that we were eye-to-eye. "If you want me to leave," I bit back, "say the word and I am gone. I have a bad-"

"But that's just the thing!" Shouting now, she raised her hands and shook them, then balled them into tiny fists at her sides. "Neither Link nor I want you to leave. Goddesses, but you _can't _leave, not now! We've come too far, and- GODDESSES-DAMN IT, LINK!" I turned away in alarm, but she was addressing Legit Link, who had, upon disappearing, shot himself inside in a curiosity-induced lapse in judgment, and realized a moment too late that he was stuck. Now, I could just barely hear the muffled grunts and distressed growls coming from the barrel. Midna, conveniently distracted and seemingly willing to drop our argument, hovered in front of the clawshot target to admonish the rogue adventurer.

Accordingly, I started walking away, and made no more than two steps when the imp rounded on me with a deafening, "GET IN THE CANNON, OR SO HELP YOU GODDESSES I WILL-!" I had two choices in that moment: walking away and vanishing into the gathering dusk and probably dying somewhere alone, undoubtedly at Dragmire's hands, or I could get into the cannon and fly away. _Should I stay or should I go_?

'_GO!_' I actually flinched at Zelda's force. '_You held on for me once, and never for a moment did I entertain the idea of abandoning you in that terrible dungeon._' Groaning quietly, I imagined a hopelessly beautiful, radiantly faceless girl leaning towards me earnestly. '_I understand the difficulty, and I see your intentions, but your becoming a martyr only benefits Ganon. I ask you now to trust me again, Link. Stay. If not for yourself or for Hyrule, then for me; stay._'

_Why'd you play the guilt card? For Nayru's sake, Zelda. That isn't bloody fair_.

In her little corner, I could feel her smiling that damned soft, steely smile of hers that I wished for all the world to be able to see. '_If you left us, you would be utterly alone save for sporadic communication. I can maintain our link through Midna's blood in your veins and your proximity. Despite my wishes, my magic only stretches so far in this form._'

"You make it sound like a cult."

"What did you say to me?"

Midna's ponytail rose threateningly, but I just shook my head, grinning slightly. Holding up my hands and rising reluctantly, I twisted around to gesture at the healer's house. "Okay, okay. You win. I'll get into your cannon and fly away with the village idiot and your lovely little self-" I heard a distinct shout here from the dearly beloved village idiot. "Fine– But good to know you won't even say thanks to what's-her-face down there. How rude, Midna." Clearly unamused, she just bared her teeth in a muffled, "Bite me," before arranging her shadow inside the cannon with Link. I stood beneath them, just staring at Link's look of muted horror (mixed with Get-Inside-Now-or-Else daggers) and Midna's impatient scowl. In shadow form, and seriously regretting my actions, I moved to join them – and in a sudden whirl of colour, my eyes were watering and someone was shouting and there were effing _clouds_ up here- and then I saw paving stones and screamed bloody murder because _Zelda this is all your fault!_


	30. life in technicolor II

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Life in Technicolor ii by Coldplay.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"Oof!" Headlong roll, and then pain, right as I realised solidifying en route had not been a good idea at all. Furiously rubbing the side of my head and disregarding the stars in my eyes, I leant against the cement wall I'd tumbled into to see Link swimming, thoroughly unimpressed, towards where I stood. He had evidently landed in a pool of water, Midna chugging along at the shadowy bottom while he swam, whereas I had somehow been thrown forward into a wall. _Why_ was life so unfair? Did the goddesses really hate me that much? Grumbling under my breath, I turned to survey the landing site, in all its aerial glory: essentially a circular stone courtyard with a chest-high rampart running the circumference except for a small opening to what must have been the main causeway since it led to a grand entranceway. Several massive structures coated in sleek white tile and having overall bell-shaped appearances hovered nearby, a few of them even sporting a few cracks and exposed vines. I hadn't known vines could grow at this altitude. Behind me, I heard Midna telling Link that if he bothered opening his mouth, she'd shut it for him in a very unpleasant way. I guessed that that made two of us who knew that Link really was a sardonic bastard on the inside. How droll.

The air seemed entirely too light here – bright and violent – and a pervading, breathy melody rang incessantly in my ears with shrill lyrics of gibberish. Combined with the lingering stars and persistent ringing from my violent arrival, this was not making for a good impression. I waved angrily at a smirking Midna from where she reclined on the flagstones, protected from the awful wind raking over the small stone island. I was too stubborn to join her in her sanctuary. And then I realised that she was hiding from the _wind_ – that we were just short of flying, in the _sky_, above Hyrule, with no supports beneath this thing, whatever it was. And then, being the idiot I was, I very dangerously discovered while dangling over the edge, that we were on a fecking island, which made it all so much worse. We were like, _floating._ On an island. In the sky. Above _everything_. _An island in the sky_. What the _hell_. What the _hell_ was I doing here, in a place like this? Where _was_ a place like this? What would happen if I fell over the edge? Just short of a panic attack, I turned to face Link, who was busy trying to squeeze the water out of his hat. Midna laughed, but I felt like crying. And strangling her. _I did not sign on for this, Zelda. I didn't. This is the last time I let you guilt-trip me into something as ridiculous as a cannon to the sky_. But she just grinned.

Unable to think of anything more intelligent, I muttered distractedly, "You look wet." He just glared at me, then decided that reprimanding me wasn't worth it. Instead he turned towards the nearby pathway and gestured roughly, tunic spraying water droplets everywhere, but I refused to move without his initiative. "Where are we going?" I heard Midna snort from our faint shadows as Link silently chafed his arms. "This isn't funny."

Midna jumped to my shadow. Or lack thereof. "Stop being such a sissy; you're part twilight, for Din's sake."

"A sissy?" I snapped back at her, but she just rolled her eye dramatically. Up ahead, Link was clanking away across the gangway in a pair of iron boots. "You're telling me not to be a _sissy_? Midna, in case you're blind as well as stupid, we are floating in the sky. We are on a _sky island_, for lack of a better term. I was not briefed that I would be unsuspended, goddesses know how high up, in the _sky_. Excuse me for being a little shocked."

Snickering at my annoyance, she bared her pointed teeth in a smile. "Scared of heights, are we? Maybe you should've watched your step during that ambush. Falling off that cliff must've scrambled your meagre brains."

"Ha ha." _Very funny. Let's pick on the poor guy who got thrown off a _cliff_, of all things. That's totally inexcusable_. "You know, it's impolite to-" But Link interrupted with a startled honking kind of noise, and I spun around in time to see Midna's eye open wide in shock as the shadows she resided in abruptly expanded. That was when _OH SHIT_ crossed my mind.

Something massive and winged and hissing nastily swooped down at us, abruptly truncating my thoughts; Link and I both ducked from where we each stood, me holding tight to the wall's edge as the thing stirred up huge gusts of air with its massive wings, and him aiming a bomb-arrow from where he stood by a set of stairs to the entrance. From the brief glance I had, it looked like a dragon of some sort, the absolute last thing I wanted to deal with after a gargantuan spider. Midna cried out as it dove at the gangway separating us from Link. Reaching for my bow, I managed to fire off two shots before the monster darted away, screeching terribly, back to its broken tower several islands away. At the other end of the gangway, Link had his hand over his hat, eyes wide and staring in the direction of our attacker.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I spluttered at him; my fingers kept twitching over my bow from the adrenaline, and my eyes were watering from the cold air. _Today is just getting worse and worse. Next, we'll have to kill that damn thing with blindfolds and wooden bats._

Link put out his hands and shook his head, clearly sharing my shock. I shadowed my way over to him (in the process coining a lame verb for the transformation), where he promptly muttered, "W-welc-come."

"Oh, shut up. That's not funny. We just almost had our effing heads taken off by some flying lizard, and you're joking about the manners of whatever sadistic jerk sent it."

He _fff_'d at me, but unsheathed his sword anyway and stood, braced against the stone wall that lined his side of the gangway. I growled back at him, stared blankly at the clouds below us, and dissolved into his unoccupied shadow to be appropriately sulky and obnoxious, because that was what shadow-like beings did best in their spare time. He glared unseeingly at my solution to the problem, but didn't comment; there wasn't anything he could do to rid me from my hiding place, anyway. Midna was still in hiding or something, and Link certainly didn't have any mystical shadow powers, aside from his stutter.

That was mean. Oh well.

I solidified on the steps, shaded my eyes, and leered back the way we'd come. "Midna, you can come out now. Your dashing heroes have temporarily vanquished the beast." Link _fff_'d. When she didn't appear immediately, I assumed she'd found something more interesting, or been disoriented by the dragon. A long expectant moment passed, but still nothing: no sarcasm, no scorn, no superiority-complexes. Link _fff_'d again, even going so far as to say, "Mmm?" to no avail. It was just us two, poised at the entrance to another no-doubt ridiculous temple, feeling strangely detached and wind-swept. We were, after all, standing well above the ground with nothing to redirect the wind and nothing to direct us until Midna decided to end her stupid game.

With mounting irritation, I turned to Zelda. _Is Midna planning on returning any time soon or should we just go on and open the place up without her?_ Oh, she would hate that if she were here to hear it. I also expected almost instantaneous protest from everyone's favourite deposed monarch. Instead, I belatedly noticed her absence and the silence it left in its wake, and it disturbed me even more than Midna's apparent disappearance. Hadn't she mentioned proximity as a major factor in our ability to sense each other? A cold pebble of fear sank into the pit of my stomach so that I had to fight to swallow a panicked outburst since irritating Link or distracting him wouldn't get us any closer to finding the girls.

Leaning back into the shelter of the main stairs, I blinked, working to stifle the emerging vague outline of confusion. Where could she have gotten off to? We were on a floating island, for Din's sake. I gave the terrible gusts another three minutes before dissolving into the haven of Link's shadow, almost wishing to hear a reprimand for waking the resident twilight monster. Another five minutes later, I realised exactly how irritating it was to wait in someone's shadow. We hadn't been doing anything – just waiting in the tiny alcove for Midna to make an appearance. The continued silence left us both more than a little unsettled, Link in particular for obvious, irreproachable reason. But what made matters worse were the iron boots; in the mean time he brilliantly decided to release his nervous energy by traversing the causeway a second time to pillage what his little Hawk's Eye mechanism had identified as sunken chests in the courtyard pond. Yeah, chests, at the bottom of that goddesses-damned _water feature_. It took him an eternity and a half to get anywhere with the boots, so not only did I have a grand old time just hanging out in his shadow while he paced by the door, I had to endure a ten-minute trip back to the stupid pool so he could satisfy his impatient curiosity. I didn't stay for the return trip – he only managed to salvage a couple of water-logged bombs and a rupee he discarded anyway – because I thought I saw her reappear at the other end by the door. Link didn't even bother with the boots on the way back.

"M-Mid-Midna?"

I shook my head and his shoulders caved. Her familiar shimmer was nowhere to be found, not even between the flagstones or hidden by the chipped, golden gate hanging by its hinges. Link pathetically called for her again, but still we received no answer, which only set us more on edge. The colour had fled his face and I felt the cold sweat accumulating on my nape again. She wouldn't just leave us like this. She wouldn't leave Link so abruptly. Zelda promised. Had something gone wrong?

"Midna, where the hell are you? It's not fecking funny anymore."

Nothing.

Exchanging glances anxiously, we stepped into the shelter of the alcove, at the top of the short flight of cracked cement stairs and beyond the busted gate, with me examining the shadows and him shutting his eyes and silently muttering to himself. Something wasn't right, couldn't be right – what the hell was she doing, and where? I stared hard at the gilded entrance while shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. What other choice did we have?

"Link," I began, but he shook his head violently, glaring at me. "Link we have to go in." He held out his hands, as if asking where she had gone. "I don't know. I wish I did, because she has all of our stuff-" He snorted derisively. "It's true though. What if she's inside?" Doubt, now. "We've been waiting out here for almost an hour and she still hasn't reappeared, so my only conclusion is that she's inside waiting for us."

Link still looked suspicious and acutely betrayed, but I hadn't expected anything less. We had literally just recovered him, and now all of a sudden our guide just up and vanished without a word of warning. His panic had nearly been palpable, and while he had it under control now, I could feel his anxiety: sharp, intoxicating, pessimistic. How long had his imprisonment felt?

I stood back as he opened the door and stepped inside, sword drawn. Should we have waited outside? Another temple, and without Midna… goddesses, what did I get us into? I couldn't help but think back to the debacle of the Arbiter's Grounds and those shadow rats I hadn't even been able to resist without her help. Link still had one twilight-inclined companion, but I had no intention of replacing her. Shaking my head, I turned to face the creepy metal atrium of dead vines, stray Oocca, and empty space, noting silently that the air was cool and stale. Every place I'd visited had stale air. It struck me as odd here due to the whole setup – from where I stood, we'd entered a metallic complex, its walls consisting of exposed bundles of wires, gears, and rusted panels, all housed by ceilings that extended well above our heads to compensate for the distinct lack of floor. What little floor existed consisted of huge blocks of tile erratically placed throughout the room. Where the floor didn't exist stretched open sky. And right beside those patches wandered a few of those awkward creatures. Everything about this abandoned city in the sky made me want to kick something, or punt an Oocca over the edge into the oblivion I was trying not to recognise. Or Hyrule. Or whatever was below this effing island city.

Scuffing my boots against the precious floor, I stared at a nearby pillar as if willing consolation to just materialise out of nowhere. Like Midna. _That'd be pretty great – HEY GUYS, WHERE'VE YOU BEEN?_ But nothing moved, not even the dead leaves, or the staring Oocca. The longer we stood here, side-by-side and uneasily examining the layout, the more I felt Link's panic seeping into my own chest, where the metallic silence already reverberated. I didn't think I could be this hollow on the inside, but it seemed as though the inside of my ribcage had been slicked with ominous anticipation. We exchanged glances and he took a few steps forward to survey the edge of the floor, and I wished I had his courage. Instead I reckoned that if I complained he'd lose that panicked look. Or I would.

"_Why_ is this place crawling with Ooccoo's little buddies?" I wanted to lighten the mood and put us at ease, but the goddesses-damned gibberish from outside had begun to filter into the space, the feeling of having a box dropped over me intensified, and with a jerking epiphany the sickness of frayed nerves hit me. So goddesses-damned sick and scared and naked, with no idea where to go from here. Thankfully, Link had it covered. When I turned to confront him, he had a wildly-flapping Oocca in hand, and was pointing with his chin at the ground. I dissolved again; no sooner had I lost my form did he leap across the gap in the room, land on his feet, kill the nasty metal-faced helmasaur on the other side, and sheathe his sword with unparalleled grace. I reappeared beside him in partial awe.

"Well gee, way to put me to shame." He shrugged, grinning wolfishly with the side of his mouth. Moving to survey the immediate area, I noticed the slightly different patterns on the tiles beneath the vases. The Oocca had wandered over and taken up residence behind one of the jars. Like any logically-thinking person, I followed it and yelped, scrambling clumsily to regain footing on solid ground when goddesses-damned tile crumbled beneath my weight, its remnants sinking away into the sky. I stared wide-eyed after it.

Link laughed.

I told him to shut up.

He pointed at his eyes, sneering.

I told him to shut up again. Stupid bugger.

His head jerked to the side, coupled with a very melodramatic eye roll that blatantly said, _Brilliant observational skills. _Next, Link pointed to the pillar, a hard look replacing the evaporating humour. He didn't elaborate. _Thank you, Mr. Mute_. Why he refused to communicate now, especially given the circumstance, either reflected his sadism and stubbornness, or his apathy. Maybe he was just afraid of his stutter echoing. And as funny as the idea sounded, I knew that if I had a similar speech impediment, I'd keep my mouth shut too. Or at least, I thought I would.

"I don't know what you're implying," I stated blankly. He scowled. And waved. Then he clawed the air in front of him with an intense expression on his face, pointed at my shadow, and pretended to toss something into his other hand. "I don't have any weapons, if that's what you're asking me."

Sighing loudly, he cleared his throat. "M-m-m-m…" Then he paused, obviously flustered at his inability to just spit the words out, and tried again with a grimace. "C-claw-clawsh-shot-shot. M-m-m-m... mmm-make it-it."

He wanted me to _make_ a clawshot? I stared for a moment, then cast an unsteady look at my own shadow. It looked considerably pathetic compared to Link's. "I thought you had one!" He shook his head. "I-I guess I can try," I muttered uncertainly. "But the last time I did it, Midna was here and I had the real one to reference. I don't think I can just pull this out of thin air."

"Try."

The clear enunciation caught me off guard; struggling briefly in the midst of retrieving pieces of my shadow, I looked at him in surprise and felt a surge of white-hot pride. Then I concentrated, hard, tracing the clawshot's form in my mind, attempting to recall the details on the handle, remembering the clicking noise it made – even the way the handle grip smelled. When he snuffled, I looked up to find the partially-solidified clone of the weapon, and felt a crippling dizziness wash over me. I immediately sank to my knees and fell forward, holding the ground at bay and breathing heavily while the clone clattered away. He had a hand on my shoulder, but my vision kept swimming until I laid down against the tile and shut my eyes, swallowing thickly.

"Damn."

"Mmm?" He kept tapping my face. Kept tapping, until I forced myself to look at him.

Rolling onto my back, I took my time breathing and readjusting myself; meanwhile, he stared down at me almost accusingly. "I'm okay." It came out as a pant, but I didn't care. Next minute, and I'd gotten back on me feet with a jerky head-shake, scooped up the clawshot, and took to examining my handiwork. "You better hope this works, man. I do not want to drop into empty space and plunge to my death."

Link rolled his eyes, _Like I want to either_. He sat back almost eagerly while I practised shooting. It seemed to work – for me, at least. He refused to touch it, instead firmly grasping my forearm in preparation for takeoff. Shrugging and hoping fervently my makeshift weapon would work, I fired at the vines and felt the clip catch – but halfway there, his fingers accidentally brushed the chain and the shadows dissipated, leaving us to tumble forward onto the platform until the wall halted our momentum. He hopped to his feet a little too energetically. I scowled.

"At least now we know you can't touch my stuff."

_Said the pot to the kettle_, snapped his expression. I was beginning to tire of the multitude of ways he could leer, sneer, scowl, and glare. The array was almost disturbing. Regardless, I got up and dusted myself off, pointing at the next empty space separating us from the next exit. "So how are we supposed to get over-" Link, that crafty little bastard, pointed with a snarky grin at an Oocca walking sideways on the wall. "Oh yeah? How you gonna get it down, huh? What are you gonna do, jump for it?"

He looked at me once. Then he leapt up and grasped it around the neck. And then he kicked once at his shadow before running at the edge. I dove for it, just managing to make it as his boots left the ground. Rather cleverly, I remained in his shadow until after he leapt to the next level, completely ignoring a second metal-faced menace, and forced open the next door. Upon materializing again, I was on the verge of congratulating his little show when I heard a voice.

Someone was saying something, garbled and soft, but the sound stiffened my spine. This was important. And by the way he'd frozen just ahead of me, I knew he heard it too. Our gazes snapped to one another, our ears suddenly perked for that tinny whisper. Had it come from this room? It looked like a main atrium, like the one place in all this mess where we were absolutely supposed to be. Two main passages, barred by doors and open sky, fed off the central area, and from above withered, tangled vines crept along one another until messes of them dangled just close enough that some brushed our hats. Something rustled closer, at the back of my mind and near the edges of my hearing; it took a fraction of a second for me to recognise the warm, white glow and my heart started in relief. It was Zelda. The noise was Zelda. And she was talking to us.

'_Garden_,' she murmured. '_Midna._'

Garden and Midna. Midna was in a garden somewhere. A garden. Somewhere.

_Shit_.


	31. yellow

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Yellow by Coldplay.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I would never, _ever_ forget the look of utter fear and panic that crossed his face at Zelda's words. I would also never forget the way he looked at me, the way he conveyed such emotion in one frightening stare. Then he pointed at the floor and I complied and the next time he stopped was when he realised he needed my clawshot again. Solidifying uncertainly, I tried scrutinising his expression for any hint of an outburst, but the only thing I could detect was the blatant: "Must find Midna."

"Clawshot?" I asked, pointing at the broken window screen he faced, foot tapping, head tossing impatiently like a horse's. I wanted to be the world's biggest hypocrite and tell him to just try to relax and solve the place as he normally would, but I couldn't bring myself to do it so directly. "Look," I muttered as I worked, once again pulling apart my shadow and this time hoping for a better reaction, "I want her back too. We'll find her. We just have to work together and figure this place out-"

_Ffff_. Link had adopted his favourite battle stance while pointing almost angrily at the floor. When I opened my mouth, he shook his head violently and pointed again. I put down the shadow prototype.

"Hey. I'm a resource, not a tool. I want her back too."

Pulling a face, he shook his head. "S-s-s-slow." Then he nervously gestured for me to resume working. I stared in disbelief.

"You want me to do something for you, just so you can hurry up and banish me to your shadow? Because you think I'm _slow _– that I'll slow you down?" I demanded, annoyed with his attitude. I was not something to be used at anyone's convenience; hell, I thought we'd been over this, that I could handle myself decently – that I wasn't solely a twilit accident. He may not have liked it, but I did have a personality and free will and independent thought. He might have been my namesake, but I still had the opportunity to be someone else's. "Right now, I'm in a better position to complete this place – I can make any necessary weapons, and I can avoid monsters by travelling as a shadow. Theoretically, I could just _leave_ you here and find-"

I kept staring in disbelief, because he'd grasped my collar and shoved me forcefully against the wall, one arm across my collarbone and restricting my breathing, and the other hand holding the tip of his sword to my throat. I didn't dare swallow. He growled, fire in his eyes. "One more-one more word-word, and I-I w-w-won't th-think twice-twice."

His first complete sentence, and in such a tone; I must have had a real knack with people. He suddenly lowered the weapon and clasped me on the shoulder with a warning squeeze, and stood back expectantly. Sighing with mounting irritation, I waved at his belt pockets. No chance of winning this one. We were wasting time with this bickering anyway.

"Do you have gloves?" He pulled out a pair of dusty riding gloves that looked like they'd been used for anything but their intended purpose. I nodded at them, hoping that my harebrained idea would actually work – for mine and Midna's sake. _So much for being friends. Friends don't threaten other friends with fancy swords._ Maybe I just needed new friends. I held out my clawshot to him, noting with satisfaction that I felt considerably better than the first time. "See if you can hold this."

He couldn't. I swore. This just made matters that much stickier; the last thing I wanted to do was clawshot this jerk around, especially after his admission that he wouldn't "think twice" when it came to my life or hers. I wanted to be really pissed at him, for even suggesting it. I wanted to dissolve and just leave him standing here by himself, lost and useless and feeling just the way I did most of the time – like I didn't belong here. So goddesses-damned _useless_. And Zelda's words weren't echoing in my head, the ones about not giving up on people and about the garden, I might have abandoned him. Instead, I refashioned the clawshot and held out an arm for him to grasp, fired, and landed us safely on the ledge. But before I could even hook it back onto my belt, he was already through the gap in the screen and waiting at the next broken precipice, a truncated balcony that would have led straight to where we needed to go. The next time Zelda graced us with an audience, I intended to ask her about whether or not Zant had embarked on a vandalism spree when he planted the shards. Yeah, it would have slowed us down anyway even if we had the proper array of weapons and weren't working against the clock, but this just served as a massive waste of time. After shooting us across the gap to the balcony, I had to create a spinner to turn the gears for a bridge to connect us to another floating white-walled building.

Only now did I see how we'd happened upon a sort of interconnected campus or city. Well, not-so-interconnected anymore thanks to whatever forces of wanton destruction. I was about ten times angrier than I should have been over the ruined structures because no fail, as soon as my boots hit the floor or a ledge or became entangled in vines, I always looked up or around only to see Link dusting himself off, dashing to the next destination, hardly giving the wind, the height, or his lagging shadow, a second thought. The pattern kept up through several rooms I passed in a blur; the only details I could remember about them were semi-darkness and the dull glint and stale tang of metal. I met him just inside the door of our latest arrival, but it just wasn't enough – he was already halfway across another bridge to nowhere. He had absolutely no qualms about keeping up this ridiculous game of one-step-forward, two-steps-back. Next thing I'd know, he'd have me operating on auto-pilot, just like another one of his stupid pieces of equipment. Oh look, a chest. Oh look, a bridge. Oh noes, the dragon just destroyed said bridge. Oh look, we're back in the first room.

What the hell.

We'd crossed another bridge before I shoved his shoulder as he jogged along in front of me. His expression said, _What the hell is your problem now?_ but I refused to relent. "I know there isn't much either of us can do, but this is more than ridiculous- we're not making much headway-"

"No," he conceded, brows drawn together. "C-c-can't st-stop now-now."

"I-I know. But, isn't there a better way for us to do this? Maybe instead of you waiting for me, I can wait for you, or go on to open up the next parts?" The look in his eyes changed abruptly. _'Kay, not a good topic_. "Okay. Never mind. Fine. I'm sorry. I'll just fade into the background here like a good little shadow. Keep my mouth shut. You know, the whole deal."

Link shook his head, but by the way he kept moving, ignoring the occasional birds I recognised from Hyrule Field and unlocking the doors, I only got more annoyed. I was being _sarcastic_; I wasn't trying to invite this treatment. I hated feeling used, almost as much as I hated feeling useless. I couldn't win. Goddesses-dammit but I couldn't win. Feeling particularly sulky, I watched from his shadow as he traversed a new room in record time, with the one piece of equipment he _did_ have on him: the iron fecking boots. Why he carried such a useless arrangement of equipment really went beyond me; who the hell has boots, a looking glass, and a bow? Sure, the bow was useful, and maybe even the looking glass, but why the _hell_ didn't he keep the clawshot? Why?

I shouldn't have blamed him, but I just couldn't resist. We were stuck in a ridiculously confusing temple with no guide, and very limited resources, because I was not a magician and couldn't magic together weapons or supplies. We also had to save our missing imp because we needed her and Link would probably stab something in the face if we never found her again. Or decapitate someone. Multiple someones. In all honesty, I probably would too – or at least, maim something. But the point was, I was trapped in the position of trying to navigate in cooperation with a very stubborn, very independent, and very angry swordsman – me, the pacifistic, twilit archer who just wanted a goddesses-damned compromise. This obviously entertained more than its fair share of adversity.

If he kept up this behaviour, I might really resort to pursuing the true meaning of my new moniker – after we rescued Midna, of course. She was my friend too, and Zelda... Distinctly sulky, I continued watching and mentally criticising his faults, just to prove my status as resident hypocrite. Maybe this was how Midna felt all the time, like a disrespected, underappreciated piece of equipment. Immediately ashamed of the direction of my thoughts, I materialised next to him while he opened a new door after threading his way through a maze of ledges and tile monsters. I'd just opened my mouth to say something witty when steel bars crashed down over the door, and low growls began issuing from the far corners of a small, square room missing chunks of the floor. Nothing new there. I brought up my shield and raised my sword, already hopping across the tiles to meet the second Lizalfos that emerged from the gloom. Link kept making guttural noises, which I could only interpret as various warnings. We spun past each other several times before I managed to corner my lizard with his back to open sky – and made the mistake of glancing at Link's progress before finishing him off.

"SHIT!"

Dropped on one knee and blade askew, I clutched at my arm, staring with nauseous anger at my split shield. In my shock, I'd partially dematerialised, holding a strange mixture of transient and physical form – which proved a fluke of luck as the blade came down a second time, on my bad shoulder, before I managed to roll away, clumsy with pain and shock and shame. As if on cue, Link swooped in out of nowhere and easily knocked the enemy over with a short jab of his sword; when I looked up, through my hazy vision I noticed blood spattering his pale face, felt my expression change to one of confusion.

"You-?"

"No," he said simply, and knelt down to look me in the eyes, an unidentifiable emotion locked deep in his gaze. I shifted drunkenly to my feet, his hand on my good arm.

"It just… ah, hurts, that's all. 'M fine."

He did not look amused in the least. Standing awkwardly in silence, I pulled up pieces of my own shadow to make suitable bandages, eventually giving into the dizziness and sitting down. There was dark purple blood everywhere. Link, at least, seemed fascinated by it, and even dipped a piece of his tunic into it to peer more closely. I, on the other hand, had swathed the injuries in heavy cloth, or something very close to heavy cloth, because it literally unravelled itself from the creases and folds of my tunic. When he almost hesitantly asked for the clawshot, some of the bandages stuck to the handle, slick with blood.

"They'll just have to stay like that," I muttered distractedly, once again slowly rising. Then, as my blood pressure fell: "Ugh. Hold this-" I'd tossed it at him unthinkingly as I sank to the ground again, but froze at its continued existence in his hands. Link looked just as surprised. "You-you're holding it?" He held up purple-stained hands. "Holy shit, it's like a… a barrier."

He just nodded, shot it, but before hitting the release, pointed firmly at his own shadow. I was quick to oblige, and within seconds he'd mounted a new ledge and opened a new door, all on his own. I kept quiet this time, letting the shadows work their magic and watching in dulled awe at his fluidity of motion. As soon as he captured an Oocca, he hardly even paused to chart a flight course – he just took off, already perfectly timed, caught the updraft caused by a half-broken fan that had fallen over a hole in the floor, and flew happily along to the next ledge. He seemed so much more qualified, focused, and intense with a needed weapon; Link moved, really _moved_, with it in his possession, like it was just another part of him, instead of a displaced piece of me.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or the trauma of being attacked like that – hell, maybe I was finally coming into Midna's shoes. But I didn't feel an ounce of agitation now. Granted, I still harboured a little token of discontent and resentment, but it had been significantly reduced. I felt better. And as he slowly lowered himself into a new sub-chamber, I materialised enthusiastically just as he unexpectedly released the clawshot. As a former part of his shadow, I was directly below him, too stunned to dodge him entirely; I put up an arm to prevent being impaled on his sheath, but my elbow ended up smashing into his shield when he jerked back in surprise. Link dropped like a stone.

"Oh damn." Crouching next to him, I gingerly brushed his shoulder, still reeling from the strange collision. I did _not_ just give him a concussion. I did _not_. _Oh, please, Farore, tell me I didn't_. "Damn. Bloody hell. Link? Goddesses-dammit, I am so sorry- Link. Link! Aw, fecking hell. Link, wake _up_. Wake _up_! C'mon!" I kept jostling his shoulder, but his head just lolled around limply. _At least he isn't bleeding_. Yeah, a real upside. Straightening up, I nervously surveyed the scene, taking note of the lack of immediate exits. He'd lowered us into another eerily square room, although this one had a completely solid floor and huge rectangular windows set high up along the thick cement walls. I had a terrible feeling about this room. I glanced down at him again, but he still looked dead, aside from the steady breathing. He would murder me when he woke up. _Way to go Link. Way to go._ I also knew I couldn't just leave him here, sprawled in the middle of what could very well turn into a-

"BLOODY HELL!" A fecking winged lizard rose up over the nearest busted wall, shrieking its head off. If that wouldn't wake him, I didn't know what would; hurriedly, I dissolved with him and dragged him over to a nearby wall, hoping that my presence would distract the damn thing long enough for him to recover. With any luck, he'd kill the monster before killing me.

It swooped.

Yelling at it, I managed to hook its shield with my clawshot, bringing it in close to hack to pieces. Exactly why the front of its shield had something like netting or chainmail draped across it completely escaped me.Then I shook the thought, trying to concentrate despite a pounding headache and blurry vision. It swooped again, but as I was exchanging my sword for my bow, forcing me to duck and narrowly avoid grazing its blade. Dear old Link still hadn't moved, and I very vaguely began worrying if I'd killed him by accident. The third time it dove after me, I managed an excellent chest shot, which fazed it enough to take refuge outside the window. I crept back over to Link's place, poking him nervously; he stirred a little, eyes fluttering, brows drawing together- and then Mr. Lizard returned in renewed force, by tackling me from behind.

Link woke then, when I collided with him for the second time, our heads almost smashing together. "Can you… can you take him?" I spluttered brokenly, feeling particularly sick to my stomach. He attempted to lever me off him, but I felt my knees give out entirely, sending me bodily onto his shoulders. Now that we had tangled ourselves into a pathetic pile, Lizard appeared again, but stupidly swooped at a pot on the opposite side of the room. Link awkwardly thumped his fist against my back, and I slipped sideways onto the tile, my skin feeling cold and sweaty and completely foreign. I shut my eyes. When I opened them again, he was cheekily brandishing a shiny new clawshot inches from my face. Ashes littered part of the floor, and, judging by the way he was grinning, I assumed he'd defeated the monster with little difficulty, and had returned to gloat. Slightly annoyed, I clutched my head and sat up slowly.

"You know, you can be really obnoxious sometimes."

He snorted. "F-for-forgive y-you."

"That was an accident," I snapped, rubbing the back of my head. "I didn't mean to hit you, much less knock you out." He snorted again, but offered me a huge pot from another part of the room. I peered inside and identified the telltale sparkle of a trapped fairy. "Is your head all right?"

"One st-step."

"Oh, bravo." He had probably already explored half this floor and healed whatever damage I'd caused, because he was just that good. One step ahead, just like he'd said. Din. Careful to direct her to the cut on my arm, which still held leftover splinters from my broken shield, I hissed softly while it dissolved. He nodded absently in approval, then gestured to the ceiling. I handed him my clawshot, baffled at his antics since he already held one. Before he could launch himself at the ceiling, I grabbed his shoulder.

"I really am sorry."

He shrugged with a wolfish grin, saying only, "Clumsy-sy," and leaving me to guess which identifying pronoun he'd meant. Sometimes, I really hated laconic people, and even more intensely, I hated playing charades. I tilted my head to the side and dissolved.

"Let's go."


	32. my hero, or knights of cydonia

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: My Hero by the Foo Fighters, or Knights of Cydonia by Muse.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I'd tucked myself into the shadows of the brim on his hat, and from here, took to commenting on nearly everything he did – mostly in retaliation to his concussion jokes. For such a selective mute, he had an astounding vocabulary; not five minutes ago, he'd managed to snarkily insult me using a humpty-dumpty reference, without actually saying anything aside from a few lame grunts. The fact that I'd instantly understood him made the situation worse. Link, of course, just laughed, but I frowned upon my apparent mastery of his language. He was actually more sardonic than Midna herself on a bad day, simply because he didn't speak. Or when he did, he was so concise it hurt.

Now, as he was clawshot-ing his way around vine-covered ruins of enormous supporting columns, I asked him very slowly, as if deep in thought, "Did you talk more when you didn't stutter?" because I refused to consider the fact that we were currently suspended over nothing.

I heard him huff exasperatedly. _Now? You ask me this now?_

"Yes. Now. Talk to me, I'm sad and lonely and my _arm_ hurts from when I got _stabbed_."

"Fff."

"Actually, I was checking to see where you were-"

"Hah."

"Okay, fine. Stay on your high horse. I don't care."

"Mmhmm."

"Maybe a little."

"Heh."

"Shut up."

"Hmph."

"Someone's talkative today."

It was like talking to myself, only without the acerbic internal realisations or analyses. It was eerie too, like watching myself, because there were very few variations in the way I would solve a current room, and the way he actually did; I made a game of it, predicting his route before he actually moved, before the door even shut behind us. Usually he worked in ways opposite to mine, employing the same approaches in a different order. I liked how it inflated my ego. I also liked how it took him down a level – at least for the time being, in my mind. Now, he was steadily crossing the underside of a bridge via the screen-like blades of propellers that must have helped to suspend the cluster of buildings.

"I hope we're getting close to the garden," I muttered half to myself, and half to him, "because I really miss solid ground." He _fff_'d at me, but it sounded more worried than before. "Don't worry, we'll find her. She's probably gotten into some sort of mischief." I wanted to sound sure and happy and nonchalant, but the way he just hung on his clawshot, very poignantly not shooting to the next blade, made it hard. Maybe it was what he intended to happen. This was exactly why he and Midna were like fecking soul mates.

"Move!" I snapped at him. "You're not saving anyone by wasting time like this." He would've swatted at me if his hands weren't full. Knowing this, I sniggered in his ear as he very scathingly resumed his trek beneath the decrepit stone walkway, shooting from one exposed screen to the next and pulling up the killer weeds that clung to the cracks in the stone above as he went. Just watching him was entertainment in and of itself; it had to be how Midna got her kicks. He'd made it to the vines when it finally occurred to me: "What would happen if your hat got blown away while I was in it?" With a free hand, he pretended to remove it, but he and I both knew that he loved the damn thing too much to even feign dropping it. I snorted at him, unimpressed, and he continued climbing, equally unimpressed. Once we got inside, he began to growl with frustration. I rematerialised beside him, equally put-off by the discovery of our location, back in the main room where Zelda first clued us into the situation, the main atrium with the jungle of vines. We'd fought through goddesses-knew how much of this place, and we'd only gotten back here, to square one? What the hell.

Granted, Link had done much of the fighting, but I still shared in his aggravation. We hadn't made it very far at all. I couldn't argue with him either, over splitting the temple or anything similar, because he was a control freak and easily offended. Sure, we could joke with one another, and fight off monsters when the situation called for it, and we could definitely cooperate if need be – but when it came down to the truth of the matter, we weren't getting anywhere without a goddesses-damned map or a guide or more hope or _something_ essential. Case in point: Midna. I turned to him as he leant against one of the nearby pillars, obviously thinking.

"We're doing something wrong."

Link gave me that hard glare, searching and scared. It was all beginning to show. I felt exposed, naked, and nervous again, like these feelings were actually permanent, or the end of something big, and I didn't like it. I could tell he didn't either.

_You think_?

"I wish you'd picked up that map," I allowed awkwardly, though I didn't intend to make him feel guilty. "I don't know if we should be here again or not. I don't know where we're supposed to be going, aside from a goddesses-damned garden."

"D-don't bl-blame me-me," he stammered angrily. "You-you-you-"

Moving away from him and towards the centre of the room, I threw back at him, "Yeah, I kind of realise that. I'm not trying to pin it on you."

"Mmmf."

"Look, man," and I spun round again, face burning suddenly. "I don't care if you don't believe me. I'm not trying to pull anything. I just wish we had a map, that's all I'm saying. Din."

He looked mildly sulky. "D-don't-t."

"I know we don't have one."

_So shut the hell up already._

"No. I'm trying to wrap my head around this." I wanted to believe it, so I said it. "We're supposed to be somewhere. I want to know we're on the right track. You moved through all the rooms and I can't remember- I can't construct-"

_You're not the only one, so don't act like it_, he scowled at me, and immediately took to readjusting his shield and sheath straps. Within another minute, he'd moved onto his gauntlets, his eyes flashing back at me. _Stop pretending you're the only one here who cares. _

Deep down, I knew it was stupid to assume he didn't care, or that he had no methodology simply because he didn't speak. I couldn't fathom complete silence just because that was the kind of personality I had. But his reservedness didn't make him less of a person. I liked thinking he was, just because it gave me more _purpose_ in the absence of any. Because now, I was the follower and the watcher and the wisecrack. I wasn't any form of assistance. I was unwanted, unneeded. What part had I played? Why was this hitting me now, of all times? _Goddesses, Zelda, but this is exactly why I wanted to leave_.

He'd moved to the next door, directly across from us, without warning me. I made a new clawshot and shot my own way over, glowering resentfully as the chain caught and released. I didn't say anything to him as he left the room, still not referring at all to his shadow. Despite the unacknowledged invitation, I dissolved anyway and observed his next crossing, involving floating plants and new doors and rooms and shit. Just shit. I was tired of being a shadow and watching someone else's adventure. I wanted Midna back, even if I would be shoved farther to the side because of her reappearance. I didn't care, but I did. I at least went noticed, unlike with Link, who made it clear I was not needed for his successful navigation of anything. I felt supremely sorry for myself. I felt angry and ashamed and bored and ready for some excitement. I felt like someone had betrayed me, or tricked me – or maybe teased me, namely Zelda and her stupid promises. I wanted to do something, and I couldn't tell if this was just Link's socially-awkward attitude or his sincere dislike of me. I had no idea where I stood. Literally, and metaphorically, and I was freaking tired of it. I did not have the type of temperament to deal with this sort of treatment in a one-on-one atmosphere. Now more than ever, my mind made itself up to leave; the second we found her frolicking in the garden, picking daisies and making necklaces, I would tell them and it would be done, and not even Zelda's pretty words and comforting light could keep me here.

He was dangling from an overhead screen when I suddenly separated myself from him, shooting to another screen just ahead. Following suit a stunned second later, he angrily pointed at his shadow, now residing happily and unoccupied on the tile floor. I didn't say anything. He pointed again, and I pointed too, still in my transient form and thereby appearing as a rogue shadow. Next he drew his sword. When I hopped onto the tip of it and punched him on the nose, he staggered backwards, eyes wide and face covered in fresh blood that dripped steadily onto the collar of his tunic. Then his expression cinched.

"Why?"

"Why?"

He didn't understand it, I could tell. I didn't care. I'd've been just as pissed if he'd done the same to me, but at this point, all goodwill had seemingly fled, leaving only blank determination. I had helped before, but I didn't want to just help – I wanted to pull my own weight. I wanted to find her too. I wanted to find her _now_. He apparently shared the feeling, as he cautiously continued moving, eyeing me suspiciously from time to time as I followed. I didn't skip ahead this time, and I didn't rush him. I couldn't tell if it truly unsettled him, either, as I trailed behind him, pretending he wasn't there, that I was moving of my own accord. When we came to something that could be used as a clawshot target, I waited for him to move first. By the time we'd arrived at the tower, I'd seized the responsibility of clearing enemies: shooting keese and killing the carnivorous plants before he even drew his sword. And when we hit another lizard, I yelled for him to keep going as I sniped at the monster's head. He didn't hesitate. And for a second there, it really felt like we'd finally hit a pattern, hit an accepted routine, a groove – that I'd clear and he'd move. It worked. It really worked at this point, and I felt fleeting regret over our previous lack of cooperation. Why couldn't we have hit this streak sooner? Would it matter in the end, all of our mishaps?

With a few decent parries and thrusts, I managed to finish him off, and salvage some of my pride that had fled during the previous incident. I also felt better for having left his side, felt less suffocated. I even grinned as I headed for the door, sheathing my sword in the process and tightening the straps on one of my gauntlets. Maybe that was what I'd needed, some space. Maybe-

_Wait a second. That's- _Grass.

I blinked, then hurriedly bent to examine the patches, the tension suddenly heightening and burning my throat. This was grass, and grass could be found in gardens, couldn't it? To the side, a wall had crumbled away, revealing another one of those flying plants puttering around overhead in circles. "Link?" I yelled into the open sky, my anxiety abruptly palpable within my chest. "Midna!" While suspended, I found a labyrinth of stone and plants, sunshine and tile. Somewhere in a corner, I could just make out the branches of a tree – and if I listened hard, I could hear someone yelling back over the wind. _The one time you disappear, you're actually needed. _I hastily shot my way across until I could drop down into the separate courtyard with the tree, its own little white-walled flowerpot, once again accidentally landing on someone as I fell. Link didn't complain this time, just pointed, pale-faced, at a prone, translucent Midna.

"S-some-some-thing. D-do s-something."

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" She looked disturbingly pale for a shadow and I just wanted to throw something, as if doing so would return her to the waking world. "Aw, hell. What happened? Farore." Not knowing what else to do, I angrily spluttered, "What do you expect us to do here, Zelda? I swear to Din, if she's dead or dying or-"

Link punched me. I clutched at my nose, meeting his look of abject horror, diluted only by outrage and what looked like a dawning realization, with my own incredulity. "I'm trying to freaking help her, and you freaking punch me _now_?" He raised his fist again, pointed with his other hand, and I threw up mine, suddenly terrified. "I don't know what to do. I don't know. Goddeses-dammit, stop hitting me! Midna, wake up!" I shook her this time, and when droplets from my nose splattered against her skin, she seemingly solidified marginally. Link made a high-pitched hmph-type noise, and grabbed my hand, coated with new blood, and pressed it against her. What looked like a jolt of violet lightning snaked between us, and she shuddered.

He decided to release me and show me his hands then, with the apparent burns from where my blood had been from the earlier incident with the lizards. Glancing at my own palms, I noticed that the one he'd used was indeed streaked with peeling skin and bright blisters, though mine were a decided maroon as opposed to his angry red. Then he looked at me, clearly saying, _You wanted to help. Here's your chance – do it._ I raised both my hands, poised to tear away the bandages from my shoulder, or slit my wrists, or sneeze all over her, or something else equally sacrificial, when I got blindsided by something heavy and hot enough to burn. Screaming at the excruciating contact, I scrabbled to remove whatever it was that had wrapped itself around my wrists, binding them painfully behind my back. When the bindings held despite my attempts to dissolve, I knew we were in trouble.

An uncomfortably familiar unseen force had me suspended about fifteen feet into the air, a decent sprint away from Midna's prone form, which was guarded by a snarling, battle-ready Link. Zant hovered at my shoulder, one hand resting on the bandages until they withered and disintegrated, and until I winced satisfactorily.

"I can't let you do that," he whispered to me. "I can't let you do that. My god won't let you do that." His hands were pressing hard into my back with something electrical, something that shocked and hurt and made me choke and gasp. Link shouted something from where he stood, but every time I cracked open my eyes, he was still crouched protectively over Midna, looking torn and desperate and beyond furious. Zant suddenly teleported beside Link, easily sweeping him aside.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," he said to me. Then he flicked a disc of crackling energy just to the left of Midna, and a strangled yell issued from Link. "Your kind is not meant to mix with ours." Maniacal cackling. Sweeping around with a grand gesture, he released Link and triumphantly crowed his battle prowess. "I will kill you with my bare hands, as I should have done. I will kill you and my god will be pleased – he will reward me, his humble, his loyal, his loving servant!" Link charged, but the Twili easily repelled him with magic; in a surprising turn, I fell bodily back to earth and lay panting, fumbling clumsily with nerveless fingers for my bow.

"Come."

And at once I was in Link's shadow, rising up as he ducked for a thrust, driving an arrow home into that goddesses-damned headdress and waiting for the transformed shaft to hit fabric, hit flesh, hit bone, but it only deflected harmlessly just like back in the Arbiter's Grounds. Together we spun away across the tiles, having once again hit an invisible barrier. When he began twirling with knives of his own, Link nodded once to the right, jerked a shoulder to the ground, and held his battle stance until Zant had come in close enough to slash at him. The swords flashed, and as Link flew backwards, I caught the Twili's foot with my sword, slashing upwards and catching the satisfying _zinnng_ of flesh contact. He howled, immediately throwing me back into the air, bound and immobile.

"NO!" Shrieking. He kept shrieking unintelligibly. Just screaming and yelling for minutes at a time, with Link standing frozen in uncertainty, staring from several feet away. "NO NO NO! MY GOD WILL KILL YOU. HE BIDS ME- HE- I WILL- MIDNAAAA!"

But she wasn't moving, and I was sure his eyes were rolling in madness. The next time Link moved, a cloud of what I instinctively recognised as twilight forced him into his lupine form; growling menacingly, he leapt at Zant, actually managing to catch an arm in his teeth, before finally being suspended over and above the wall, clearly held over open sky. I tried wriggling around, but the magic held tight – and then Zant's wild screaming stopped abruptly, like a switch had been hit, and calm as you please, he drifted over to face me, and murmured, "You will come with me, or I will kill him."

Once again I hit the ground hard, barely able to catch a breath. The wolf had defiance written all over his features, and Midna looked just as dead and needy as ever. I didn't know what I was getting myself into – when did I ever – but what difference would it make – they would live and it would be okay, oh it would be okay, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it be okay? Goddesses let them be okay. Let them be okay. Ganondorf kept his promises but I couldn't think straight, could only spluttered repeatedly, "I'll go, I'll go, I'll go. Let him go. Let them be." My ears rang deafeningly.

"Excellent."

His hand crumpled into a fist – and my horrified "NO!" was cut short by the way his knife slid home in my chest.


	33. run

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Run by Snow Patrol.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

_Humming. Steady and monotone and soft, like a secret, whispered behind warm hands. She was petting his hair; her fingers ran through it rhythmically, until he shifted and reached for his hat. Rain poured incessantly and pounded on the rocks above and around them. He held her now, and she slept._

_His tongue probed deep and rough between her lips, and she struggled not to shy away. She could hear his pitifully shallow breaths from somewhere near their feet – he still held her tightly, wholeheartedly believing her ruse. She hated herself. Down her arms and around her waist, she felt his hands leave behind marks of hot betrayal and royal fury. Her cheeks warmed with angry tears and liquid shame. "Oh, Midna," he sighed into her ear. "Midna."_

_She sat on the cold window ledge, staring balefully out at the ethereal mess her kingdom had become. The sound of her sword clattering to the floor of the throne room echoed mercilessly in her ears. _You gave up_, a voice kept whispering, but she wasn't sure if it was her own shame or his sadism. _You failed your people._ Turning away, she pulled her legs in close to her chest and wept like a peasant, because she wished more than anything to relinquish this terrible responsibility. She wished for a savoir. But the Twilight continued to drift upwards and the air around her grew cold, and when the door finally creaked open, she had regained her royal composure._

_Something roiled within her chest, and she took on _her_ form, the blonde girl from the village. "Well, in that case," she leered, "little Midna would be happy to help you!" Around them, pieces of his world rose and disintegrated as the twilight thickened. She felt no guilt._

NO_. She screamed, but was unaware. The usurper held him tightly, forcing his unconscious form onto his knees_. Don't hurt him_. This was his plan, he said; this was his cleverness: the temples, the desert- He told her that he wanted her. She said nothing, the fury burning in her heart, and suddenly the boy was jerked awake for the countless time by rabid magic, forced once again into a wolf. Raising his hand, he gloated, ready to send the Light Dweller back – when the wolf knocked his aim awry and redirected the warping spell at her. It hit her full in the chest, sending her tumbling through the air, reaching and crying and cursing the stupid boy for his goddesses-damned chivalry._

You can't leave him in there._ The Twili knew that she was addressing her, but refused to acknowledge it. Her strength had been renewed by contact with the mirror, and as a result, her own influence over the Twili's actions had declined considerably, until she existed as nothing more than an annoying voice. She squirmed angrily within the confines of another's mind. _You have to go back. We can't let him die._ Still, no response. Furious tears tore through her and she wanted to scream, wanted to force something to happen. She wanted control again. She wanted to fix something, because she did that best. _Midna, you have to go back, now. _She felt the other's reluctance, the other's fear and guilt. _If you ever want to see him alive again, you have to go back for the boy. One step at a time._ One step at a time._

_The Light Princess wouldn't cease her reassurances, or her warnings. Duty, that was all she ever heard from her, and she was sick of it. It was not her duty to let him die. He couldn't die, especially not on her account. Not for her, even if that was what he'd intended. No. "Shut up, Zelda. Shut up! SHUT UP!"_

_The boy was still unconscious upstairs. She followed him to the centre of the meadow, curious and scared of the cold, blank expression he currently sported. He wouldn't talk to her. "Link, talk to me." Instead he held out his hand and took hers, both of her tiny palms, in his. His shoulders shook almost imperceptibly. What had she done to him? What had he done to deserve it? "Oh, Link," and she wrapped herself around him, dousing him in the shadows in which he so desperately wished to hide._

_Face in her hands, she cried over the dead boy's body, cried over _his_ lost body, and cried for her own uselessness that had forced her to kill the villager. How dare they act as though he were dead? How dare they pass judgment? How dare they discard him so easily? _How dare they?

_There was someone coming; footfalls echoed off the cobblestones and the dense fog, and she lay in wait beneath the bridge, raw with fury. Each step brought him closer, her talons exploded outward, her eye grew mad – and she leapt through the cracks in the stones, her hands suddenly lodged deep within-_

I came up gasping for air, but my breaths immediately hitched at the excruciating agony radiating from my chest. She slumped over me, with her tiny hands still curled around the hilt of the blade, and just over her shoulder, I could spy terrified eyes. As I held in a startled gasp, her eye abruptly snapped open to reveal a bright gold and iridescent blue iris, backed by determination and disturbing calm.

_Must be dead. Died. DeadLinkdeadtoo. Dead…?_

'_Lie still. She needs you._'

_- _Thoughts jumbled together; I slid into an uncertain darkness, caught somewhere between both worlds. Large cold hands were touching me, holding me down. _Don'tdothatpleaseithurts. Nonono. Don'tpleasepleasedon'_.

'_Look at me._'

Panicked, I opened fluttering eyes, confusedly caught sight of the twilit blade, and attempted to dissolve away from it. The weapon instead pinned me between two states of matter with a steady twilit current; it shocked me alternatively from consciousness to partial slumber and back again. Someone was shrieking.

'_Link_.'

Then very suddenly the sounds and the acute burning sensation faded, leaving only cool hands and star-like palms. Someone slapped repeatedly at my cheek until the ringing abated and, dazedly, I stared up at them, noting the familiar sunset of her eye.

"I-I…" She laughed tiredly, sounding completely exhausted. "I can't leave you boys alone… Look at your noses-"

_Nose? Boys. What?_

Lost in hazy chaos and unable to properly move, I felt myself trickle into the shadow of the branches, lulled into a stupor by someone's strange monotone humming. Someone else whispered, "Good night, Shadow," and I wanted to cry but couldn't summon the energy.


	34. such great heights

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Such Great Heights by Iron & Wine.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

The breeze hinted at a brewing storm. I hopped down from the railing, Midna sighing with relief, and pointed upwards at a colossal pillar coated with vines near the top. "I'm going to assume that's where we're headed next."

Link snorted and jabbed derisively at his head, his eyes rolling, _No really. Thanks for enlightening me._

I stuck my tongue out and began my very literal, largely unaided ascent, unless Twili magic counted. "Look what I can do, Mr. Smart Ass. I can freaking fly. You wish you could freaking-" Then I swerved clumsily to avoid his clawshot while Midna shrieked hysterically in the background. Swinging around to latch onto the vines, I narrowed my eyes and waved at his grappling hook. "Throwing clawshots at people is rude. Don't you have any manners? What would you do if I unhooked this, huh? Then what?"

He raised one brow, and Midna replied sweetly, "I'd kill you."

What a happy little family.

"Okay, I see how it is." Sulking, I drifted onto the landing Link was still struggling to reach, a wide, flat stone roof with renegade weeds and entirely too much wind. I went transient by following Midna's lead, though neither of us dissolved. Link hauled himself over the edge with a full-on glare.

Midna grinned wickedly. "Oh, stop it. Your nose looks even worse with that expression."

"Fff!" He pointed directly at me, mimed at his head, and smiled complacently when I shouted, "I already apologised for that, you stupid oaf!"

"The least you could do is invent some new nicknames."

"Farore, Nayru, and _Din_!" I shook my head and wandered off to explore, but felt a smile creep onto my face anyway. We waited a considerable amount of time in that garden before advancing through anymore rooms. I'd thought Link was dead and Midna dying and I was in the midst of a _really_ detailed hallucination for two days with confusing voices and events and images. And then I woke up the third morning, or what I assumed to be the third morning since time didn't pass traditionally for people trapped in magical temples, Zelda revealed that there was no more of the settling twilight nonsense to be dealt with... that Zant's attack had left me fully twilit, with magical shadow powers of my own in addition to my tolerance of the Light Dwellers' harshly-lit world. Brilliant, yes, but at the same time, the attack also left Midna weakened from the tainted magic, Link bruised and battered and fingers shattered, and Zelda overly ecstatic.

It was like, whoa.

Exactly like whoa. And Midna had found it hilarious, and Zelda's giggle had drowned out the cawing of birds in the broken courtyard, and Link had grinned wolfishly and simply pointed for the first of many times at his nose with its caked-on blood and his twilit-bandaged head. Then we were tackling each other and crying and someone said not to hug too tightly because their ribs freaking hurt and it wasn't funny and oh, Din, how the hell were we still _alive_? It really truly absolutely was insane, because Zant must have believed us all to be finished or he wouldn't have left. It was ludicrous, everything that transpired after his departure: Link had transformed again the second Zant released him, managed to clawshot into a few stray vines in a crag of the wall, and ended up smashing a little too bodily into it. Midna claimed it was only by Link's sheer ridiculousness that he survived at all, since his ribs, right hand, and arm were all crushed from the impact. It sounded like a bad riding accident. And as for her, she explained that she'd noticed a stray shadow, taken the bait, and gotten ambushed in the garden.

It was a simple story, and I guessed it was a good thing that it didn't hurt to think about it anymore. At any rate, I'd stopped feeling inadequate and awkward. Shared life-and-death situations tended to bring people together. But still something lingered and I couldn't tell what it was, as usual.

Maybe it was the tension.

Maybe it was Link and Midna and the way he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

Maybe it was the pieces of Zant's knife still stuck inside of me.

Whatever it was, it was okay. Everything was okay now.

I leaned over the edge and stared down at the open sky and the passing clouds, sighing blankly and sitting so that my legs dangled over nothing. Midna argued with Link somewhere behind me, and all around us, the wind roared and the leaves chattered and something screeched in the distance-

Something screeched in the distance.

I'd seen the lock, but it hadn't clicked until now – we were standing on the final stage, waiting for something to happen. Jumping to my feet, I sprinted back to the middle of the platform where Midna was gesturing angrily at Link's iron boots, telling him to get ready for something instead of worrying about the gusts. We both dove at him when the dragon swooped out of nowhere, nearly sending the three of us tumbling over the side. Midna and I dissolved at Link's shout, clearing the way for him to clawshot onto a gold ball attached to the dragon's tail sheath. The weight of his boots strained the monster to the point where it crashed onto the platform, dislodging a good deal of its armour. When I made to draw my sword, Midna grabbed my wrist and shook her head curtly.

"He's got this under control."

So we stood side-by-side, necks craned, as he scaled one of four towering pillars with ease and caught the dragon again, bringing it down with a wild smile on his face and a crazy glint in his eyes. The breastplate and spine-guard shattered completely this time, revealing a creepy jewel set into its back that glowed in time to a pulse. Darting back into the air, the dragon shrieked in fury, Link flipped it off, and plants erupted from the ground as if cued by the sudden rainstorm that began halfway through the ascent.

"I told you it was gonna rain!" I screamed at Midna, this time successfully drawing my clawshots and rocketing at the nearest pillars. She dove for the shadows and raced me up the side. Meanwhile, Link had matched my progress on another pillar, shooting his way back and forth until he'd gotten level with the monster. We were both on top of the pillars, then, and flanking the dragon by shooting from plant to plant as they hovered around the area at varying altitudes, when it suddenly spat fire at the exact wrong angle. From where I was three plants away, I just caught sight of Link's wide eyes before he fell bodily back to the platform – but caught a low-flying plant just before he smashed headlong into unforgiving stone.

The dragon kept rotating his stupid fire breath. Hurriedly I moved onto the next plants, just barely missing the beam, and kept moving to stay clear of it. It suddenly stopped spewing, apparently confused by my movements, and being behind it I had a clear shot at the jewel at its back. It wasn't until the grappling hook caught that I realized it was the weak spot, and that I was on the back of a freaking dragon.

Midna screamed something about a sword.

Aw man. _Okay. You can do this_. Really. My fingers scrabbled for a better hold around the edge of the target until I found purchase, then drove my blade home into its neck, slashing repeatedly until the dragon tilted sideways and the ground came up to meet us. I flew off its back and rolled, then immediately looked up as Link hollered and waved from the top of another pillar. Midna appeared along the ground, grinning.

I made a dash for the nearest pillar, shouting, "DIBS ON TAG TEAM."

I hadn't even made it halfway up before Link passed by, waving cheerfully from the dragon's back. Then I remembered I could float. With a terrible grin, I released the vines and rose steadily, levelling off where the dragon was already positioned. Link waved from another pillar, leapt into the air with his clawshot, and began to manoeuvre his way around. I drew fire, even when the stupid monster decided it'd be cool to change directions randomly.

It only lasted another hit anyway. The damn thing went melodramatic then and burnt me on its way up with its wild fire-breath, Link still holding onto its back. He released just as the dragon stopped barbequing the air; Midna caught him mid-air and they touched down with transient shadow grace, while the monster exploded overhead, like a congratulatory light show. When I reappeared beside Link, wired from the battle, I shoved my raw fingers in his face and complained loudly, "Look what that bastard did to me. I can't feel my freaking hand."

Link snorted and showed me his bandaged right hand. "Br-broken."

"Oh please. My hand is burnt. Besides, you're left-handed."

He snorted again and punched my shoulder with his good hand. Midna grinned and muttered into my ear, "He just used double clawshots with a broken hand. That takes skill."

"Skill?" I followed him over to the glowing piece of mirror, feeling patronizing. "Mate, what I'd like to know is how you have such a high tolerance for pain here, and yet, when I accidentally knocked into you, I knocked you out. Am _I _just that skilled? Or were you overwhelmed by my awesomeness?"

"Th-thick-thick."

"Ha ha, very funny."

I turned to Midna from where I'd sat down on the stones. "So we're going back down to solid ground now, right? No more fooling around in the clouds?"

Link leaned over and whispered, "H-head's 's always in the- in the cl-clouds." Swatting at him, I shoved him away.

"We're going home, right?"

She shrugged a little and pointed somewhere off into the distance. "We've got to get back to the cannon. I can't warp you anywhere."

"That's not bad. We can do that. It's like a backwards adventure."

"_You're_ a backwards adventure." Rolling her eyes, she jutted a hip. "We've got some business to take care of once we get back down there, just so you know."

I laid down. "I figured this was coming."

"Mmff?"

Sitting cross-legged mid-air, she leant forward with her chin in her hands and followed us as we worked our way back through the dungeon. "Well," she started, "we need to go back to the desert to complete the Mirror and enter the Twilight Realm. We've got to finish Zant this time."

"I second this."

"Mmhmm."

But she shook her head. "That's not everything. We have to restock, maybe visit a healing spring."

A cold rock sank to the pit of my stomach and stayed there, growing heavier by the second. "I need to go back to Ordon. I have to talk to Effie."

With a thoughtful look, she nodded slightly. "There's a spring there. Probably fairies along the way that we can bottle up and take with us. We'll just have to be quick about it. Hyrule is probably crawling with Zant's _minions_," she spat disgustedly.

I held up my hands half-heartedly. "Chill out. We'll get there." She harrumphed. "But first we have to get out of here…."

x

When we were kids, Keaton and I had gotten the idea that it would be cool to exchange friendship tokens. His father had taken them to the ocean the previous summer, and Effie had fallen in love with the shore and the sun and the gulls, essentially assembling a huge collection of dried seaweed and seashells. Keaton, needing appropriate tokens and with the memory of the beach fresh in his mind, stole two seashells from his sister's stash. We each chose one and handed ours to each other, while reciting some solemn vow I couldn't remember for the life of me. It was a kid thing. Of course, I didn't have those tokens with me now, but I did have his severed belt strap. Now, I knelt down in the soft dirt of the garden, shivering a little from the memories of this place and the lingering electricity, and cowering at the recollection of his corpse slipping out of view, beneath the murky current. But a strong relationship had been tempered here, so maybe this was poetic justice. I wanted it to be. I dug a shallow hole at the base of the tree and deftly coiled the worn leather into the depression before gently covering it again with the loose black soil.

"Keat, I- I don't really believe in heaven, or anything like that, but – I think that this is probably the closest I can get you." I tried to picture him smiling instead of the way his blood-spattered face had looked in the dimly lit tunnels. Shutting my eyes, I pressed a palm over the makeshift grave. "I'm so sorry, I-" Now my breath caught and I turned away, choking a little at a flashback of the darkness, the rushing of the water, the manacles. "I'll… I'll tell Effie what happened. I'll… I'm so sorry, Keaton. I'm sorry. Rest... rest in peace."


	35. by the way

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: By the Way by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

I hated thinking about Ordon and Effie and anything else related, like Keaton. Link rode silently beside me with something like apprehension shadowing the way he moved the reins and shifted in his saddle from time to time. We were just now entering the southernmost border of Hyrule Field and the trailhead that led through Faron, over the canyon bridge, and into Ordon proper. Within minutes I'd be subjected to a veritable tribunal, and Link would have to face an inquisition. Over the past few miles, Midna continually mentioned that it might be easier to just slip along as a shadow, something about less thinking involved – but this seemed entirely too important.

I had to face my brother like this.

Farore, I had to face my brother with crimson eyes and sickly skin and black hair and Twili magic flooding my veins. I'd been a green-eyed, redheaded Light Dweller when I'd ridden out of here, just as normal as any of the other villagers except for my attitude. I'd been the familiar figure of his brother. Now, in addition to running a terrible risk of being caught and charged again with murder, I returned as the unfortunate consequence of rogue magic and stupidity that with all of my being I couldn't bring myself to regret. It was kind of spectacular to think about it in perspective: This was what happened when you meddled in the wrong affairs, and yet, through all that meddling I'd achieved so much. Granted, you got screwed up beyond repair – but the people you met along the way did make up for it. All of that was good enough for me; for Ren, the fact still stood, clear and unwavering in an open honest plain.

'_I cannot predict your brother's reaction_,' Zelda began quietly, '_but perhaps you should allow him the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, you are simply fulfilling your own prophecy_.'

_He's ten, Zelda. Ten-year-olds don't get the benefit of the doubt because they're freaking _ten_. You said yourself I'd break his heart if I left again, and I did, so I don't know how you can say anything about a benefit of the doubt when I did exactly that and left. And turned into this. I'm a stranger to that village because even if I didn't look like this, they still blame me for the massacre. Goddesses, but I've turned everything into such a mess._

She sighed. '_I am certain all of our current problems will fade in resolution._'

_Or they'll be dwarfed by bigger things at hand_._ That seems to be the running trend._

Link interrupted my musings with a muffled cough. He pointed mutely at the spring, and the path ahead, his hands suddenly not as still and solid as I remembered. He seemed flustered and perturbed, not unlike his behaviour back at the City in the Sky.

"What's up?"

He just shook his head, waving vaguely into the distance. Instead, Midna appeared at his shoulder looking just as disgruntled. I had no idea why everyone decided to go the Ordon route if no one actually wanted to go. We all had mean looks on our faces, and both horses were noticeably dragging their feet. She flitted beside us, transient. "You're scared of going back."

Head shake.

"Yes you are. Don't worry. No one should recognise you."

Hard stare.

"Well, maybe. Okay, some might." She slapped at his head. "I'm trying to be positive here! That is what you're afraid of, isn't it? Being seen and having to answer questions?"

"That's a new one," I scoffed at her first comment. "There must be a correlation between near-death experiences and personality changes."

"Or just changes in general, Mr. Shadow," she snapped in response. "Ha ha ha. Moron. Two can play at this game."

Link snickered despite his aura of apprehension, and I walked my horse into Epona, who responded negatively by attempting to bite my hat from my head by snapping at my nose. _Vicious bitch._ He patted her neck lovingly. _Vicious idiot._ Then he looked troubled again, and I felt sorry for him, so I tried to help.

"You know, a lot of the older residents have died. In massacres, or whatever the case. But most of them are gone – it's a relatively young settlement, if that makes you feel any better." He stared at me: _Did you really just say that?_ I shrugged sheepishly and waved at his house, which was just coming into view at the end of the trail, an old treehouse still serviced by a single, simple ladder. The kids had left toys scattered all around the area as usual; Link saw this immediately as his brows drew together in consternation. "Oh. Uh, the kids use it as a playhouse. They've kind of taken over. Just sayin'."

Midna slapped her forehead from where she resided in Link's shadow. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. Ah. Oh well. It was out there now, and I thought it was a valid point to make given his curiosity. He might as well know ahead of time that his house had been repossessed. We rode straight for it, into the clearing, and together we each elicited startled yells and screams from little children playing on the balcony and around the base of a huge oak in the corner of the naturally enclosed yard. I recognised a few of the neighbour kids – and they seemed to misrecognise Link.

"Link! What happened to your hair? Why's it a funny colour?"

"Where'd you get that sword, Link? Link? Why is _he_ riding Arden?"

"Link!"

"Liiiiink, where've you beeeeen?"

"Effie wants 'ta see you!"

Something cold slid into my stomach again as I slowly dismounted, turning to face the children shying away from me. This was gonna be hard. "Cor, he's… I'm Link. Don't bother my friend, please." The children took another step back, wide-eyed and curious. "I know I look different, but I promise I'm not lying. See, Arden likes me." And I grabbed his reins, petting his nose and trying to hold back the despair at seeing their reactions. I was not a monster. "See. Where's Ren? I need to talk to him… and Effie."

Deril, one of the older boys and a fellow herder, shook his head. "Link…? What… but what happened to you?"

I laid a finger beside my nose and winked. "I touched something I wasn't supposed to. Do you believe me?"

It looked like he was struggling to answer when Cor, a tiny blue-eyed blond, stepped forward, his jaw set and eyes hard. "I do. I believe you. But if you're Link, why does he have your hat?"

I turned to glance at a nervous Link, still frozen on Epona and still avoiding gazes. Midna shook her head from his shadow. "He's borrowing it. He… Cor, can you please just tell me where Renado is?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably before finally pointing at Link's house. "With Effie."

_This is not going to be easy. Why is it never easy? What if they hadn't believed you?_ I sighed heavily and handed my reins to the first kid I could reach. "Thanks. Why don't you guys take care of Arden?"

When the kids filed out of the clearing, Link grasped my arm; I jumped in surprise, having expected him to still be on his horse, but Epona had moved to the unused stall beside the ladder. "Do you want to go upstairs with me?" He started shaking his head, but eventually nodded. Zelda fluttered silently in something like support. We were here now, so turning back wasn't an option. But standing at the base of the ladder, necks craned and faces upturned to the rough-hewn door at the landing, it took everything in me not to tack a note to the tree and turn away. When I glanced at Link, his hand still loosely balanced on my shoulder, he expression mirrored my feelings, a discovery that inexplicably steeled my confidence and courage. With a deep breath, I mounted the rungs as if I were approaching my execution. Maybe I was. All of my thoughts left me as I knocked, turned the knob, Link just a step behind me and Midna at his feet, the three of us strung up on high tension and sick from anxiety.

Why was it always so hard?

Inside, Effie had pulled one of the kitchen chairs over to the fireplace, where she sat with Linkie in her lap and a book in her hand. Her head snapped up immediately, sluggishly shifting from surprise to confusion to almost fear, but before she got out a single word, I'd enveloped her in a tight embrace with repeated apologies. When she didn't scream, I knew she realised who I was, and when I felt her warm tears sliding down my neck, I knew she understood.

"Keaton," she breathed. "Oh, Keaton. My Keaton." Then she pulled away, eyes boring into mine, and asked, "How?"

"I-I met him in the castle dungeons, and we tried… we tried to escape. The guards shot him, but he didn't feel it Effie, I promise. I was… there," I stammered. "I'm so, so sorry."

She sniffled and told Linkie to find Cor; once the door had slammed, she rounded on me with an accusatory finger. "I want to know what happened, Link. What happened. Tell me. You… People just don't reappear like this, with… looking like… telling people… You can't… You can't just-"

"Effie, I'm sorry. I really, really am, but it's not as complicated as you want it to be. I just got mixed up with some bad magic. I'm sorry Keaton was a casualty. He was my best friend-"

"Yeah, well he was my brother, Link. He was my twin brother." Her hand rose into a threatening fist and I flinched instinctively. I didn't want to see her like this. I couldn't stand to see her like this. Effie wasn't a beautiful girl but she wasn't homely either, with the light freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, dark eyes staring out of a blanched face. I didn't want to see her cry. But rather than breaking into hysterics again, she settled on pointing at an equally pale-faced Link. "Who are you," she demanded. "Who are you!"

"L-Link."

"I know who he is; I want to know who you are! Tell me, goddesses-dammit!"

He shrank away from her, mouth shut tight, and I knew she'd scared him as nothing else could. She asked him a third time, but he refused to look at her, even going so far as to move almost into a corner. I stepped in front of him and grabbed her twitching shoulders before he reacted like a cornered wolf and drew his sword – not that I thought he would, but I could see the dramatic scene playing before my eyes. "Don't worry about who he is. I didn't come here to introduce you to him – I came here to tell you about Keaton."

"No-" Effie refused to believe it. Her eyes were angry and her lips had settled into a terrible frowning grin, and her fingers quaked from where they clutched at her apron. "No, no, no! Stop playing games with me! Stop playing games, Link! Stop… stop…" Tears flowing hot and heavy, she suddenly dissolved against me. "My brother is dead," she sobbed. "My brother is dead." I walked her back to her chair and deposited her there with gentle hands, letting her throw herself against her knees, weeping over them, her fists curling into her mussed hair. "Keaton. Oh, Keaton-"

Something beautiful was shattering right here and it was out of my power to stop it. I wanted to touch her arm, but she had curled into herself so tightly that I couldn't bring myself to dislodge her. This was her grief. Instead of deciding on an action, we were interrupted by a slamming door and Link's grunt and subsequent physical response to being punched by my little brother.

"You bastard! What did you do to her! Look what you did to her!" Renado threw another punch, but Link twisted away before it even got within striking distance. This only irritated my brother more, as he attempted to shove Link into a wall, tears coursing down his blotchy face.

I grabbed his shoulder before anything else happened and stated simply, "Ren, cut it out." He replied by forcing me up against the outside railing, through a door that had somehow opened.

"You bastard!" he shrieked. "You should've never come back! I'm- You've got… I hate you!" He threw his shoulder into my chest, and instead of going transient and letting him hurl himself off the second-story landing, I tumbled over the ledge and bodily onto the grass below. I laid there aching until he stumbled down the ladder to confront me again.

"Ren-"

"Don't… don't 'Ren' me. You don't even _look_ like my brother. My brother… my brother wouldn't leave me like that. My… You're not my brother. You're not my brother!" He turned away briefly, crying uncontrollably, before swivelling back: "Where is my brother? Where is my brother?" When I could only stare back at him sadly, hands held up in submission, he aimed a kick at my side and wound up for a second blow when Link grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. I got to my knees panting, feeling like a wretched mess.

"Ren… Ren I'm sorry. I'm really, really, really sorry."

"YOU'RE NOT MY BROTHER!" he hollered.

"But-"

"I DON'T HAVE A BROTHER!"

All the breath left my body. Link let go of Renado; he landed a sucker punch before sprinting into the heart of the village, losing himself in the crowd of staring children feeding my horse. I didn't move for a long minute, until Link grabbed my arms and forced me to my feet, handing me one of his kerchiefs in the process. Wiping absently at my lip, I felt something break and settle like before, but more definitely this time. I was done here. We should never have come here. With Link's hand at my shoulder, I whistled for Arden and slowly mounted as shouts issued from the main village, the sounds of adults gathering for investigation and vengeance. From Link's shadow, Midna kept up a steady barrage of whispers:

"Link, you can't leave him again! You can't leave him- You've got to follow him-"

"My mother's dead," I snapped at her, and rode into the woods, Link following uncertainly, and the villagers calling after us in confusion. Everything was doused in confusion. I could only very vaguely comprehend Renado's fury, but his last exclamation still left me feeling shell-shocked and dry-mouthed. I didn't know how to respond to it since I didn't want to just reciprocate by shouting back, "And neither do I! Nah-nah-nah!" That wasn't an answer. I'd expected an adverse reaction but I hadn't planned for one. After all, I'd only come back to settle terms with Effie, and she seemed dandy, didn't she? She'd taken that news spectacularly well. Everyone loves when their brothers die – hell, my own brother would rather believe I was dead, which might have been for the better. The old Link was certainly dead, the one that had rebelliously ventured into the Field and gotten himself swept up into utter chaos. That Link had been finished as soon as I'd touched that goddesses-damned Mirror.

We cantered up the trail; it should have been an incredibly simple, mindless trip back to the Field since the path didn't exactly wind all over the place. I couldn't concentrate at all, not with the shame and self-pity and outward hatred and regret that came bubbling up at full force, right into my throat. I had brought this upon myself; hadn't Midna and Zelda warned me? Hadn't she said it would break his heart? Hadn't she told me not to leave? But I did leave, and now I reaped what I'd sowed. Tears didn't feel appropriate, especially in front of Link, but I didn't even realise they'd started until I blinked a few times and couldn't see straight until I wiped the back of a hand across my eyes. I stared at the moisture, lost.

Link suddenly rode up and crossed Epona directly in front of Arden, forcing him to swerve into the Faron spring. I felt myself dragged from my saddle and shoved, but it wasn't until I hit the cold water that I reacted, spluttering and coughing and scared.

"G-get your-yourself t-to-to-to-to...g-gether."

For a split second, I did nothing; I just stood there, dripping, sopping wet and empty inside, too many thoughts and feelings to translate into any one thing. And then without warning the chill of the water crashed back into my bones and I barrelled into him with a wild cry, pushing him against the slick boulders. Quickly scrubbing my face with a sleeve, I tried punching him, but he just grabbed my fist. "It's not okay! Didn't you… didn't you see any of that? Didn't you… didn't you…" But it was Midna's arms that wrapped themselves around me, Midna's arms that held me close and pressed my face against her warm shoulder. I couldn't hold my form any longer and dissolved, suddenly terrified and feeling so intolerably alone.

'_He will come around._'

"Shh, Link. Shh. It's okay. It's okay."

It wasn't okay, and I knew it, but I let them talk anyway because the melody of their soft voices somehow made everything just a little bit better, just a little more connected to the real world. I huddled against her dense warmth. I'd been secretly hoping, secretly deciding that I'd have a place to come home to, a place where I could be accepted again. My brother would always be there. My brother would accept me again, even after all the terrible things I did in the name of Hyrule. Except, he had no brother. That was a logical assumption on his part, right? I remembered the awful looks of terror on those young faces, the pure fury of Renado, the utter desolation of Effie. I hadn't been there as his brother, but as the harbinger of bad news, so of course he didn't even recognised me. Besides, I'd left him – I'd willingly left him. ...And yet, here I was, disillusioned and disappointed by my rejection. Deep down, I expected it, but I couldn't in a million years have prepared for it.

Rematerialising wordlessly and completely unattached from Midna, I looked at a thoroughly disturbed and abashed Link. "Desert," I muttered. "Aren't we going to the desert?"

He nodded dumbly. "You-you-you-"

"We're going to the desert. We're going," I confirmed. "Let's go to the desert." And then I dissolved and tried my hardest to imitate a real shadow.


	36. savior, or audience of one

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Savior or Audience of One by Rise Against.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

The trip to the desert was a predictably awkward one. No matter how quickly or cleverly we moved, we couldn't shake the Imperial detail that found us just as we left Faron – and by we, I actually meant everyone's favourite wolf and his two shadows. Rather, we played cat-and-mouse with the main body by teasing out individuals, dispatching them, and then withdrawing, all while heading west to the subterranean system that ran between Lake Hylia and the Gerudo Desert. The lack of coverage posed a decent problem in itself, but whenever the trails led us through narrow passes, we also ran the risk of ambush. The soldiers needed serious encouragement just to approach Link, but even so, we weren't about to leave his welfare up to a bunch of frightened but determined men. We took absolutely no chances, and that translated to hiding in bushes and, when we had no other choice, hiding him in pools of shadow, too, that left him chalk-white and sickly. But we'd made it, and it had cost the detail almost two-thirds of their number.

Link grunted somewhere beside me and we shushed each other, the two of us jostling a little to take a tight corner into an adjacent tunnel. Behind us, the sound of tramping boots filled the dusty silence near enough for my heart to hammer in my throat. Midna's eye flashed out of Link's shadow, meeting my gaze as I crept along ceiling; Link just stood stock-still, sword ready. This might have been our third or fourth ambush within the caverns, and if we were lucky, we would get out of here sooner rather than later and could lose the tattered remnants of the company in the sand. Now, he held out his hand and flicked the fingers upward, and like black arrows Midna and I shot out of the surrounding area, through the first of the approaching pair of soldiers. Just as our victim tumbled to his knees, Link's blade lodged itself in the second one's throat, the body falling silently to the dirt floor. Link and I pounded fists. Midna rolled her eyes.

"Is that really necessary?" she demanded in a tight whisper. "It's ridiculous."

I dipped my head at her with my best straight face. "Yes. It's completely necessary. Couldn't do it without it." His teeth flashed white in the gloom, leaving her with an exasperated head-shake at our antics. "Look, we're practically out of here." I grinned and pointed ahead at the pile of rubble from my temper tantrum so long ago. Coincidentally, that gesture also signalled the all-clear for uncomfortable conversation topics.

She sidled up alongside me as I followed a few steps behind Link. "Hey," murmured Midna. "I want to- Link, I think you need to talk. You haven't said a word about what happened since Faron."

"Now who's choosing the inappropriate-"

"Every other time I try and talk to you, you disappear!"

"With good reason," I bit back. "Did you ever think that maybe I don't _want_ to talk about what happened?"

Link _fff_'d, I tensed, Midna grabbed the unlucky soldier's ankles, and we ran him through with our swords. We moved six steps to our left, trying our best to quietly sweep away the stray sand and stones while Midna disposed of the body. She liked disposing of the bodies. I wasn't sure if it was just in her dark nature or obsessive tendencies, though I never bothered to ask – she was a little _too_ good at what she did for me to open my mouth. She could keep her motives and her grumbles to herself. I'd be cornered later, and while I was decidedly unhappy about it, I decided I would just cross that bridge when I got there. When I glanced over my shoulder, Link was checking around the corner, listening intently. He waved his hand once, a jerking motion, and disappeared back down the corridor. Midna blew a steady sigh of frustration between her teeth.

"Aren't you going to follow him?"

Her brief glare said it all. Shaking my head, I continued moving through the new passage, sweeping away debris with the tip of my sword until I approached the heavy boulder-like door, the same that I had been forced to burrow my way through stone by stone. She didn't approach me this time, just hovered uncertainly between where I stood sizing up the hole, and where Link had vanished into the gloom. I'd just started shifting pieces of the wall when she spoke again.

"Link, this is important."

_Great, let's annoy the hell out of the kid who just got freaking disowned by a ten-year-old._

'_Oh, don't be so bitter_.'

_Oh, don't patronise me. Do you have family?_

'_I did. But you must remember that your friends care for you as well, and your behaviour has been cause for concern_.'

_You don't need to be concerned. I'm perfectly fine. The kid didn't mean it_.

Well, I didn't want him to mean it, goddesses knew that. They also knew that given any other time in my life, I just ignored what my brother did or said and let it slide, because I knew it was silly or meaningless. But this time, I couldn't – this time, there had been something else in his voice, in his eyes, in the way he'd knocked me from the balcony and tried to beat me. It was almost like he wasn't just some ten-year-old who happened to be my kid brother. Fighting does funny things to a person. Fighting turns people around, makes them older. Maybe he just – maybe _he_ wasn't my brother any more. Maybe he outgrew me. Maybe he-

"Link!"

"What?" I demanded, annoyed. I shook my head a little to clear it, wondering vaguely if I'd been standing here for too long with grit-covered hands. The last thing I wanted to do right now was talk. I just wanted to focus on doing things and getting somewhere rather than on how jumbled I felt. Between the renewed confusion over the necessity of my presence and Ren's reaction, linear analysis eluded me. "I don't want to talk about it, Midna. Din, just drop it already."

Her fangs glittered in the darkness. I hefted the rock in my fist, but she tore at the air before her with angry claws. "I won't just drop it when you're standing there like a fool. You need to talk about this! I can't risk-"

"Risk what, huh?" Glaring at her, I squeezed the jagged stone in my palm, feeling it grate awkwardly against the gauntlets. "You've got your man. I'm just extra – a two for one special-"

"Oh, don't start this again! Something goes wrong, and you immediately decide you want to play martyr-"

"What I'm _saying_-" A hard look passed between us. "-is that I wish you would just drop it. It's none of your business, and I do not want to talk about it. I don't have to answer to you."

She sucked in a breath, as if slapped. "You may not have to answer to me," growled Midna waspishly, "but I do have a right to question you. There is something bothering my friend, and it's obviously troubling him-"

"Midna! I don't want to talk about it and I'm asking you as your_ friend_ to respect that."

'_Understand that I refuse to enable your self-destructive tendencies_.'

_I expect a little respect on this front from you too, Zel_.

Midna just growled quietly but she didn't pursue the issue like I feared she might. Well, she didn't pursue it with anything other than, "Another time, then." Just like her to do that. But as long as she quit her interrogation, then everything would be fine. Besides, I could hear Link returning, rounding the corner and clapping the dust off his hands. He raised his eyebrows when he caught sight of Midna's irritated expression but ignored it in favour of the rubble as he stood next to me, poking at a few of the larger pieces by our feet.

"You know," I drawled suggestively, "we could just blow this shit up. Again." A grin lit his face. We scrambled back to the crux of tunnels, where Link handed me a bomb that, with a handy little magic trick or two, I lit with twilight and shot into the mess. Everything went up in an explosive storm of green and orange and gold – and shrapnel. Laughing, I turned transient as Link ducked behind his shield to avoid losing half his face. He wasn't amused at the excessive force of the explosion, but he did appreciate the new exit and the warm sunshine rushing with a breath of sand against our faces. "And into the desert we go."

x

"W-wait-wait."

We both turned, puzzled as to why he would stop us here, on a random sand dune a hell of a way from the temple. We were literally out in the desert and he wanted to stop and admire the landscape. Link waved me over, gesturing at a sunken mess of tuff and what looked like a flight of uneven stairs into darkness. He had a hand balanced on a lantern clipped to his belt, the other with a light grasp on his sword as it rested in the sand. When I came up beside him, he snuffled at the entrance with that curious glint in his eyes.

"You want to check it out, don't you." His mouth quirked into a one-sided smile and a slight nod had me rolling my eyes in exasperation. "I thought the Mirror and Zant were top priority, but hey, if you want to investigate some creepy ruins in the middle of the desert, that's cool too." I didn't want to do this now. Midna didn't want to either.

"Link, this isn't the time for fun and games." When he pointedly ignored her and ventured inside anyway, she huffed angrily, "Fine. Link, you go with him. I'm staying right here until he comes round and realises that this is a huge waste of time. All you're going to find down there is some bandits' raided stash."

"You don't even bother with rupees, for Din's sake!" I shouted after him. Nothing echoed back through the crumbling arch, and sighing in resignation, I hurriedly skipped down after him, out of the suffocating heat and into the cool respite of subterranean caverns. I found him standing in the middle of a space large enough for its perimeter to escape his lantern's reach; he spared a glance when I drifted up to the rough ceiling to poke at a stalactite. "There's nothing here." He snuffled. My temper was rising again and if he kept up this stupid search for nothing, I could resort to violence. "Link, there isn't anything here. We- What the hell are you doing? Stop looking at me like that; you're practically licking the wall!"

Face pressed against the rough rock, he snorted again, hands creeping spiderlike until suddenly snapping into fists – and a clean rectangular slab slid into the floor with an almighty rumbling. I blinked in disbelief, trailing after him onto a ledge that overlooked a cavern almost identical to the previous room. Without warning he stepped off into thin air; I heard the thump of his boots and the rattle of his equipment as he hit the floor below a moment later, then the patter and squeals of dying rats. I laid down on my stomach in order to get a better view of the short-lived action: lantern swinging wildly swinging from a belt clip, Link had engaged a handful of monstrous rodents. Within seconds he'd finished with them, and I floated down to glare.

"I don't want to follow you through this place," I declared, pissed at the way he swaggered over through the doorway, leapt into the room, and almost nonchalantly dispatched the cluster of Skulltulas scuttling around in the corner by a neat patch of ethereal white vines. "There isn't anything in here but-"

"S-stay," he replied simply, and then squeezed his way through a crevice.

I stood there until I couldn't see the light of his lantern anymore, or hear the grunts and scuffling of his movements through the narrow passage. I stood there for awhile in the dark, anger simmering sickeningly in the pit of a cold stomach. I stood there and didn't think. And it wasn't until I'd forced myself to breathe in the dry, cob-webbed silence of crooked stones and loose sand and self-loathing that I realised for the first time in my life, I was truly alone. I was alone. Here in the dark that wasn't dark anymore, and the ancient air finally released from its tomb, I sank to my knees, on rough stones that hurt me and tore at my exposed palms, my breathing coming as heavy, irregular pants, a spectacular fury suddenly threatening to blow everything in me to smithereens by turning my veins into lit fuses. I was screaming unintelligibly and beating the ground with my fists, punching and punching and pounding until there were bloody prints and droplets visible only to me.

"Oh, goddesses, what have I done?"

I felt broken again, but even more so than before, because this wasn't just a build up of twilit energy like before in the Field. This was real. I _was_ twilight now. There was nothing to hide behind anymore. Just like when my mother died, and Colin and Keaton, and all the guilt associated with the moral dilemmas I've had to face, and all the terrible feelings in between – this was an explosion of reality, right here in this hellhole of a place. I didn't hear the clanking of manacles this time, which might have come as a relief if it weren't for the intense anguish.

"Why does this keep happening?" I shouted at the wall. "I didn't want this! I didn't want any of this! Why does this – why did this… I hate you!" This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't how I wanted it to be. And at the same terrible time, I wouldn't have it any other way. I punched the ground one last time, collapsed where I had been hunched over, and squeezed a sharp pebble I'd found until I could see the foreign blood seeping between my fingers. Something had definitely gone wrong somewhere – I felt so disorganized. Thoughts scattered and lacking sense, I sat up violently and threw the stone as far and as hard as I could, hoping savagely that it would shatter against something. Then I rolled onto my back and dissolved into the floor, forcing myself deeper into the cracks in the floor until I felt the warm density of slow-moving water, probably an underground spring of some kind. Something flickered weakly in this area, but I refused to rematerialise and investigate because I got a sick sense of pleasure out of the perceived solitude. The water gave me a profound sense of claustrophobia. Then my thoughts drifted off into a peaceful stupor, and the grit in my palms burnt.

Zelda's voice flitted through my mind but I brushed it off; I didn't want to hear her now. Not her, not Midna, but we'd left her to her own devices, probably including a good tanning session. Right now, I just wanted to sit and stew in the silence and take it all in. It occurred to me that I could slip back through the tunnels to Lake Hylia and to Ordon. I kept thinking, _You can go back there right now and talk to him and tell him everything. You can go back there and tell him everything._ Being disowned by a ten-year-old orphan hurt more than anything I had endured during this wild misadventure, even the part with Effie. I had hurt him when this first began, and now this was karma. This was irony. I could feel it at my core, a burning, smarting, aching agony that screamed illogic. I'd cried before over not protecting my brother, my baby brother, from terrible outside forces, and now I was raging over… over everything.

I continued weaving my way in and out of cracks until I finally hit the empty space between stalactites, and I couldn't hear anything but the shifting darkness, like the earth itself was breathing in my ear. When I rematerialised, I discovered a little pocket of sculpted stone that let me have my pick of a convenient niche and to fold into, half-in and half-out of solidity. I leant my head against a perfectly-shaped indentation, blinked, and found myself faced with the fading light of Link's lantern and his concerned expression. I scrambled away from him, feeling that sharp fury and dulled fear rise once again.

His look of surprise very clearly asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you stayed behind." But I just shook my head and moved farther away. In a mindless action, I had stepped halfway through the wall when I felt teeth sinking into my arm. Twisting back through the wall I reached out and grasped what felt like an ear. Then I was through and grappling with a wolf on the floor, no longer invisible to him and no longer in control and trying my hardest not to impale myself on a stalagmite. "Let go! Link, let go of me! You – effing _bastard_, let _go_!" My fist came down over his nose and he released my arm, but I couldn't get enough control over myself to move through anything to escape or to hide. I couldn't even join the shadows. Instead I just stood there stupidly, shaking and clutching my bleeding arm, while his lantern light flared into life again, revealing his less than happy feelings. The bruises and smeared blood across his face might have been my first clue.

However disgruntled he was, he still attempted to approach me, a piece of cloth in his hand, as he tried to grab me. I jerked away automatically, still hyped up on adrenaline from the altercation – and he immediately knocked me backwards against a natural pillar, one arm across my collarbone and the other pinning my raised hand against the stone.

"Just-just try-try-trying-ing to-to help y-you-you."

I gasped, "I don't want your help. I want to go home."

"No-no you d-don't." His face came close to mine, so close that I had to turn my head to the side. "We're-we're… we're trying-trying-ing to-to-to… hel-help you." I felt him knot the cloth with a firm twist of fabric, and he backed away, looking smug. "'S why-why I left you-you-you... you a-alone-lone." Oh, Link. It just showcased his people skills, his decision to corner and attack someone as a fecking wolf when he really just meant to help that someone. I wanted to smack my forehead, but I didn't have the energy, physically or otherwise, so I just slid to the floor and rested my head against a bent knee.

"You should've kept going." I got a _fff_ for my trouble, as if to say, "I did." He also narrowed his eyes dismissively, joining me very decisively on the floor, once again blowing out the candle. "I just want… I think I… I-I'm sorry. I just – I don't really want to leave. You're right." After a thick swallow, I tried again, my voice sounding watery and lost: "I'm fine now, really. I-I promise. Let's not talk about this ever again. I have a reputation to consider." He seemed to absorb those words and maybe even consider them. And then I ruined the moment with the sudden urge to deadpan, "She really loves you, you know," after a brief flashback to soft humming.

He blatantly ignored my last statement by pointing between us and grinning sardonically. "Fr-fr-friends-ends."

I snorted disbelievingly. "I like how this is coming up now. Friends don't bite friends. You could have rabies-"

His eyes were bright. "M-mind-ind. T-talk?"

"I kind of do mind. And I can't – I don't- Goddesses, why are you doing this to me? This was all a set-up, wasn't it?"

He smartly shook his head but I could see the clever glimmer that polished the edges of his face. The hell he didn't plan this, the conniving bastard. He kept staring with those awfully wide, almost accusatory eyes too, until I finally caved like I'd known I'd wanted to all along. "I don't know. It feels like we-" Then he shifted to being uncomfortable, shaking his head. "Look, I don't mean to say that we _aren't_ friends, or anything like… I don't know. I mean, we _are_. We are friends. We are. But I just- my idiot brother just _disowned_ me. A ten-year-old just disowned me. I don't- I don't like it."

He gestured and I knew he was saying, "Well, you _are_ you."

Pressing myself against the wall again, almost in an attempt to steady the empty turmoil in my chest, I took a deep breath in and out. "I know. I just… I'm trying to think of how to fix it, and it's not coming to me." He unbuckled his shoulder strap and laid the heavy shield and sheathed sword beside him, but rather than being reassuring, I just felt cornered again. Except there was no pressure here. No, _tell me or else_ ultimatums or dread. Instead, I almost felt obligated to explain to him, like I would be doing us both a favour – and maybe I would be. Maybe he wasn't lying when he implied that behind the initial roughness, he had good intentions.

"Did you have a family?"

A smirk in the dark, followed by a nod. "F-fever-er. I was… was ten-ten?"

"Red Death," I muttered. Colin had told me about it: his fuzzy memories of a plague, shut doors, panicked cries, a dying village. "I'm sorry," I said automatically. He shook his head absently. I continued, "It must have been terrible."

"Mmm." He shook his head again and patted the ground mindlessly, reassuringly. "'S'kay." _Things happen. Shit happens._

We sat in the dark a little longer, just breathing quietly. Then the words came bubbling, but with the intensity of emotions, not coherence. "It's ironic, because I- I left him, and then it just… I thought that maybe if I initiated it, that it would be okay. Guess I misjudged his understanding. Then it was- Sometimes I just… I just." His dusty gauntleted hand came down on my shoulder and clamped down with stable finality. I took another breath, screwing up my eyes, trying to organise what I wanted to set free from my cluttered head. "He's my little brother, and I know… I know I left him, but… and I know it's my fault I left him first, but I came back and he just – I hate that… that I ruined his life and my life and I just, I'm so goddesses-damned sorry for myself right now – like…

"There's no point – What am I supposed to do now, Link?" He blinked slowly, not looking at me, but at the floor between his boots. I continued desperately, "What am I supposed to do? I mean, I'm the reason Ganondorf can track you, and I know with absolute certainty that he will find me again, and you, if we're still travelling together. No matter how useful I am to you guys, I'm still here accidentally, and I- ...I don't know. I'm just trying to think ahead. Maybe I should-"

"No." And he was suddenly bigger to me: physically and perceptually. I saw his age. He was several years older than me, and several lifetimes more experienced – and similar in so many ways that I felt safe here in this empty cavern. When he spoke, it just confirmed my feelings. We weren't just friends – we couldn't be, not after all of this. And I knew it sounded disgustingly sappy and sentimental, but there was nothing else, no other way to describe this powerful feeling surging through my chest of actually being connected to something greater, of having won my own purpose. "You-you… you'll s-stay-stay with us-us." Pause. "Y-yeah?"

"Yes. But I…."

He shook his head resolutely, but he didn't even have to say anything. He'd gotten to his feet and first rested his palm against the top of my head, then reached down to help me up, his hand several inches off from my actual position despite our close proximity and it made me smile a little. I grasped the proffered help and rose with him. He didn't have to say anything: we had come to a mutual understand, had arrived there for an indeterminable amount of time, maybe since forever. His hands flurried in a complicated gesture about something with wings or maybe something that just liked to clap in a really stupid fashion. Nodding wordlessly, I followed him as he navigated the twisting corridors and grottoes, his lantern rekindled and sword drawn. We walked together, a young man and the slightly different shadow he cast onto the dirt floor, and somewhere above us, the twinkling patch of velvet anxiously awaiting our return suddenly grew less anxious.


	37. i still havent found what im looking for

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For by U2.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"I hate this place."

She shot me an unimpressed glare. "We know. You've told us at least forty-seven times since we entered the Grounds."

I grinned at her with my best, obnoxiously bright smile. "You counted? How considerate of you! I didn't know you cared that much about little old me!" Her glowering look just made me grin wider, but I kept walking, following Link's lead as he wandered along a short, tiled corridor and along broken staircases, up into the Mirror complex. I had been joking all this way in the hopes of drowning out the awful chills racing up and down my spine, and along the very core of my arm. I'd also been using it as a distraction, or a diversion, because upon reconvening after the Cave of Ordeals incident, Zelda revealed that I had witnessed a collection of memories. Back in the City in the Sky, when I'd believed myself to be part of a series of ridiculous hallucinations, I had actually experienced broken bits and pieces of both Zelda's and Midna's memories as an accidental side-effect of the knife and the meshing of magic. I felt like I'd violated the girls, and it made everything that much more awkward. But no matter how much I joked and deflected, none of it helped. Until, of course, we came to my favourite place ever, the Mirror Chamber, and the awkwardness took a backseat to the disturbing tingling in my arm.

"Stop loitering," Midna snapped without any real venom. "You're like the annoying kid brother I never had." I shook my head and continued inching along the wall, a thoroughly ominous feeling coiling and recoiling in my stomach so that I neglected the bait. I hadn't noticed it before since the last time I'd been in here, I'd been on the verge of dying, but this place was pretty grand if you ignored the massive piles of sand built up along the encircling ramparts from the relentless winds. This part of the temple appeared more as an arena, probably owing to the structure of the room a few floors down, where Zant had kept his pet skeleton. In the centre of the complex, Link stood on a raised stone platform that faced the almost empty frame, and behind that but still within line, the ten-times-larger-than-life statue of the cross-legged woman intertwined with the snake. My eyes also traced the heavy chains that ran from the top of the pillar of the statue into several anchor points deep in the sand of the open courtyard.

He was leaning a little too closely to the Mirror, staring in fascination at the dissolving chains and twisting patterns – close enough for a specific type of accident a little too close to home. I lightly grasped his shoulder and reeled him back and away from the shard, warning quietly, "Might not want to stand so close." When he picked my hand off, I just wriggled my fingers in his face, smirking sardonically. Midna chose the moment to interrupt with more of my favourite things.

"He's waiting for us," she grinned, humourless. As she pointed at the frame, our three prizes emerged immediately to hang suspended for a split second before rushing together and in a flash of magic, recombining. Unsettling waves of twilight emanated from the now-reactivated portal; I felt myself stagger with the sudden blunt impact, neither painful nor pleasant but strange in the truest sense. Link actually growled, but Midna just adopted a disturbing smile, still humourless, her face directed towards the oncoming waves and her eyes closed.

"Like it really needed to be said?" I rolled my eyes, voicing what Link's unimpressed look so clearly implied. He had a point. Zant had already made a cameo up in Oocca-Ville, failed miserably, found out, and now lay in wait like a typical self-absorbed villain. Pointing at the mirror, I stated flatly, "Is it safe to even go through that thing? Is it like warping at all?" We all knew I would follow them – even if there were a ninety-percent chance of being irreversibly transformed into a puppy or something._ This is one of your better ideas, like the cannon. Let's follow people into strange vortexes of doom, too. What next, magical rays of light? Bottomless pits?_

'_Expecting the unexpected?_' Zelda put in dryly.

_Can't be too careful with you lot_.

Midna cut in, hands on her hips, as she tossed her nose in the air. "No. And even if it takes us straight to him, isn't that what you've been waiting for?"

_Well, no_, I wanted to say, _I don't actually want to see him again. I just want to kill him._ Zelda snickered at the lack of sense that made when spoken aloud, but I understood what I meant and had no every intention of only adopting my cocky and confident persona when the damn bastard had a sword sticking out of his gut. Couldn't count the cuccos before they hatched. Almost as a reminder, my arm twinged with an uncomfortable numbness, and the shrapnel in my chest seemed to grow heavier the longer I stood within range of the Mirror. Despite this, I moved closer to the platform, stupidly hoping for some sort of desensitisation – and actually got my wish when I noticed that the numbness receded slightly only in the presence of the pure twilight, or the stuff radiating from the portal rather than the physical Mirror itself.

Seeing this, she grinned, but it had a dreamy quality to it, her eye glowing, her hair still and unthreatening for once. Someone had started humming a simple melody, backed by the sweeping of sand over stone and through rough grass, and the ethereal buzzing of the portal itself, the oddly expansive reflection of the Mirror cast onto what had to be half a mountain made of carved obsidian. "Some call our realm a world of shadows, but that makes it sound unpleasant…" Midna stretched luxuriously in the twilight, her smile still soft and bright. "The twilight holds a serene beauty, like a perpetual sunrise or sunset here. You know, that one fraction of a day when everyone seems pure and gentle and good…." I snorted, and Link elbowed me hard in the ribs. "But things changed as foreign magic polluted the twilight-"

"It was all our doing."

The three of us couldn't have whipped around any faster. Standing behind us in a neat row were several monk-looking beings, each donning a creepy white mask and engulfed in an intense glow. Link's hand strayed to his sword with mine following suit, but whereas he eventually dropped his, I held tightly to the hilt like a lifeline. One of the glowing figures spoke, but the words emanated from all five, a disembodied but universally shared voice: "We overestimated our abilities as sages and attempted to put an end to Ganondorf's evil magic... I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive our carelessness."

Sages. What the hell kind of circus was this? I glanced sideways at Midna, but her eye was fixed firmly on the middle figure as if in a brazen warning glare. Somewhere in my memory, I could recall unfamiliar sights and sounds and information, and then some of my own, some vague history lesson back in a sun-dappled kitchen that mentioned sages and temples and a hero – and was this real? I almost took a step back, half in and half out of solidity, a ghost caught in the midst of emerging or dispersing. Link watched the crowd with wide, alert eyes. And then:

"O Twilight Princess."

And they bowed. Oooh, confession-time jackpot. This certainly explained her penchant for ordering people around and pouting. I did take a step back then, just as Link turned to her in one fluid motion that betrayed too many indistinguishable emotions, including something like triumph. Midna ducked her head, shot the middle sage another death glare. Someone had said too much.

"So." she said slowly. Too slowly. I should have known, especially given the experience in the City in the Sky, but in the interest of salvaging respect for the girls, I'd blocked out most of it. I felt like this was so much less and so much more than surprise because this revelation coincided with everything that had happened. How _couldn't_ Midna be the princess of that crazy other world? "So you knew?" That pained grimace spread across her face, slowly like her words. It seemed like she was ripping something open with deliberate care, until she adopted the haughty attitude again. "As a ruler who fled her people, I'm hardly qualified to forgive you."

As a ruler, as a ruler. Oh, Midna. That made _two_ princesses that I had met and befriended. What were the odds of that? First Zelda, and now a foreign dignitary? I could either be a very lucky or a very unlucky individual. …And given the sages' almost-puzzled, mostly-curious glances, I was willing to bet on the latter circumstance. It was like Judgement Day or something, standing in front of these guys. I swallowed thickly in trepidation but couldn't tear my attention from the scene. Link, not quite as shell-shocked, shared my morbid curiosity. He'd taken a step back and his eyes had become unfocused, the trajectory of his gaze aimed somewhere just past her face. Two days ago we had fought in an underground cavern, and now, we were standing in respective piles of sand on a raised stone platform, essentially facing another dimension or something while a bunch of decrepit sages cheerfully spilled the beans about random shit.

Midna abruptly turned to Link, one hand clutching the opposite elbow, eyes sweeping the ground. "In our world, we've long believed that the Hero would appear as a divine beast. I… I don't think I ever told you."

If he had been a wolf, his ears would have perked. Maybe they did, even in this form. I wanted to grin at him, because it felt right, but my own confusion handicapped any action. Now, don't get me wrong. I thoroughly relished the happy-happy confession time. It was a beautiful thing, the unveiling of secrets – to a point. From Zelda's volunteered backstories, I now knew the origins of this adventure and our purpose and what it would mean if we succeeded. I also knew about Midna, now, too, which helped things along when it came to dealing with her. What offended me was the apparent inevitability of all of this. People had known all of this was going to happen, and did nothing to stop it? And then there were the relentless stares. Shouldn't they have known I was with them, since they were obviously keeping tabs on Midna, the, ahem, _Twilight Princess_? Even Draggy cared enough to want me dead. Unless, of course, the sages' meddling in Hyrulean affairs came along with a certain checklist that went something like:

_- Check in on how the little Hylians are doing, and see if any of them are killing each other._

_- Take a long vacation. Frolic in an enchanted meadow. Buy a new mask._

_- Pop back into Hyrule, act shocked and self-righteous, decide to become a Justice All-Star and botch an execution, and promptly vanish sans a pat on the back._

_- Take another long vacation. Frolic in a new enchanted meadow. Make an insurance claim for that other guy's mask._

_- Years later, reappear to greet the poor idiot sent to fix the mistake. Oh, and stare incessantly at the strange companion of said idiot, because pressing matters had prevented proper observation, essentially resulting in a not-so-stowed stowaway on the adventure of several lifetimes._

Yeah. Right.

"I thought I could use you, Link." He shuffled, only slightly and I kept thinking, _This is too broadly applicable._ "And I only cared about returning my world to normal… I didn't care what happened to you or Zelda or Hyrule." He actually scoffed a little at that and I instantly recalled the bugs. Midna continued unperturbed, though her words came across as a little too practised and that painful grimace had returned. Considering the audience, this probably wasn't the best setting for a discussion like this. "Link, I-" Surprised at the attention, I materialised in full and nodded in recognition despite her gaze having a little difficulty in finding me. "And after everything went wrong, when I found you, I thought I could use you too." Laugh. "I used you both. And after witnessing the selfless lengths that you have all taken… Your sacrifices…." The shrill laugh startled me into a grin as she reluctantly turned a shy glance to each of us as she grumbled, "Thank you." And then she ruined it with: "For now. We still have to set things right."

Saving the world. Oh, goddesses. She made it sound like a chore. I'd doubted the idea from the very start, the whole saving the world shit I'd been fed since I was a child, and her attitude towards it now did not exactly encourage feelings of confidence. The name game made acts of heroism seem unavoidable in the village, and the focus on Link being the "divine beast" and a spectacular saviour and all of those stories and legends from my childhood being made real – all of that only enforced the permeating expectation, like the entire world awaited our actions with bated breath. And maybe it was because I couldn't imagine an end to this, just this present plodding, this present entrapment between two extremes, like the lighted space in a dark corridor – maybe it was because I felt too caught up right now that this venture assumed such a grey pall. We could, of course, possibly save the world and set things right, whatever right happened to be, now or then. We could also suffer terrible deaths at the hands of Zant or Ganondorf or, if things went wrong, at the bloodied, twisted fingers of each other. I'd thought about this countless times before – grass and leather came to mind – but never had I doubted it as thoroughly as I did now. She sounded painfully fake in her announcements, in her familiar revelations that said everything and nothing at the same time. They _meant_ nothing to me, and yet I knew undoubtedly that I would follow her and Link to the ends of the world regardless of the expectations she and the rest of the population held. I guessed that it just came with the territory: Heroes were either spectacularly brave, or terrifyingly stupid, but in all cases disgustingly loyal. Since I wasn't exactly a hero, I had to be a disproportionate mixture of all three, with the emphasis on the latter two qualities.

"I'm sorry for keeping that from you, but I thought it was for the best," she continued passionately. "We're almost there! Will you-will you still help me?" She held out a palm and he clasped it just as I expected him to – meanwhile behind us, the sages vanished with a short moan. I floated off the platform to orbit the Mirror, trying to hide my hurt at being excluded from the little exclamation.

"Well aren't you the peppy princess," I quipped at her.

Midna gave me one short glance that said it all: You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you? Grinning maniacally, Link leapt past and ruffled my hat until it sat crookedly on my head. I mock-glared back at him. "Hah, okay, Divine Beast. Just watch yourself, or everyone's favourite twilit accident might kill you in your sleep."

"Do that, and the Twilight Princess will murder you," she snapped back, a hand rising to readjust her headdress a little too regally. Link had an awful grin on his face.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't even want to know. Can we just go? I kind of want to get around to kicking that bastard's ass before I get a handle on my self-righteous fury."

"Some self-control might do you some good." Her smile revealed a glittering fang. Then it vanished. "I want to talk to the two of you before we go." Glancing around quickly as if to discern the sages' continued presence, she shook her head and sighed quietly. "They'll be here regardless. At any rate-" Midna looked pointedly between us as I floated nearby, Link still poised to step onto the white tiles just beyond the platform that led to an even higher dais completely exposed to the twilight being reflected between the Mirror and the portal. "-we need to set some things straight. Zant must be killed, then we can move onto the castle and hopefully restore Zelda to her proper form. Obviously, I need _my_ form back, because I'm next to useless as an imp."

"I think you'd be next to useless as anything," I interjected. Her ponytail hit me over the head and obligingly I shut my mouth amidst snickers from the resident mute.

"Anyway, I'd prefer it if you didn't joke about it, Link." Ooh, direct glare. "I didn't share that information for a reason, and you're not helping with your sarcasm. We're almost there, so just hold off a little longer, since you're apparently incapable of tactful judgment or any form of patience."

"Said the pot to the kettle." She looked like she was going to say something, but I ploughed right over her. "I understand. And I've got plenty to say, but I'm willing to hold off 'til later, because I'm just so _tactful_ like that. Anyway, congrats on the cute little speech. Now can we please go retaliate the hell out of that guy?"


	38. dashboard

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Dashboard by Modest Mouse.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

We split up. Looking back now, it probably wasn't the best idea, especially since there were only three of us, disallowing for the use of the buddy system. Or really, any other system that might avoid that goddesses-damned hand that kept creeping through the walls after me. Much to my chagrin, the Palace of Twilight was organised as two identical branches on either side of the main complex that housed the throne room, living areas, and conferencing halls. These peripheral areas contained libraries and gardens and one sol each, like anti-Mirror shards. I sincerely hoped that the guy who came up with the idea of the freaking hand as a security feature was dead, because if he wasn't, he should sure as hell expect a sword to the gut from me, with love.

Granted, I only had this room and the entrance hall to get through before I was homefree. But in order to have gotten this far, I'd dropped the stupid glowing ball of calamity several times, been attacked by obnoxiously screeching birds, half-killed by a crowd of shadow beasts, and forced to make a trip back to the library where I'd first found it after the freaking hand stole my sol. Whatever happened to using dogs for security?

'_I don't know if there is a Twili equivalent to a dog_.'

The second to last door slammed shut, and just as I leapt the gap to the nearest glowing elevator, the wall behind me lit with a red geometric pattern and the hand emerged. Obstacles slow the damn thing down at all, and this place sure had enough of them; rooms largely consisted of staircases and lofts fitted out with seating areas or collections of artefacts. Sometimes the upper levels were connected by elevators that only activated with a step of faith out into nothing. They would glow with green runes before shuddering to a start and gliding silently across the room to the adjacent landing. Handy, if you weren't waiting for the damn thing to drift over and save you from your own personal lethal stalker. "Do you ever quit, you creepy bastard?" I screamed at it, waiting anxiously at the very edge of the ledge, the toes of my boots hanging over empty space. "Why can't you bugger off? This is mine, I won it, you lost it, go die in a hole!"

The hand flexed its fingers and I swore, almost dropping the sol at the sight of the reaction. Hastily grasping it by my fingertips, I held on and shouted incoherently at the glowing runes beneath my feet, demanding that they hurry. And then I got the distinct feeling of being watched as the hair on my nape stood on end. In slow motion, I turned my head over my shoulder and flinched violently over the edge when I spotted the hand within grabbing distance. I let out a strangled swearword just as my hand shot out, struggling for a grip – except, I could levitate myself. And the sol, technically speaking. Without wasting another second I invoked the spectacular pros of twilight and fantastically avoided splattering against the obsidian floor, sol suspended well out of reach of the eerie fingers because the last thing I wanted was to see that damn hand snatching it away again. I most definitely did not fancy trekking all the way back through this wing to that damn library just to start the mad dash out all over again. It actually seemed confused for a second too – or at least, it stopped to twitch its fingers as if trying to make sense of my apparent disappearance. I blew a raspberry at its hesitation and rushed for the far exit, the gilded double doors that marked the end of this scavenger hunt, a reunion, and hopefully the finale of this nightmare. Sol hovering just over my fingertips, I glanced behind one last time, caught sight of a particularly undesirable silhouette, cried out in anger and frustration and desperation, and finally threw open the doors with a staccato blast of magic. The residual force sent us flying onto the rough, rock-strewn courtyard where the hand at long last ceased its pursuit and dissolved into the shadows of the doorjamb; I shut my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar gentle twilight bathed my face again.

_I think this is the most beautiful moment of my life, Zel_.

Then she ruined it.

"What _took_ you so long?" snapped Midna from a good stone's throw away. She and Link were on the central island of stone at the foot of the staircase that led to the Mirror and our ticket out of Nightmare Land. He looked more than a bit dishevelled beside her, with his hair mussed and tunic slightly torn, but a patronising grin nevertheless tugging at his mouth. Idiot.

"In case you didn't have the pleasure, I had to deal with a giant freaking _hand_ that followed this freaking _ball_ everywhere." She looked unconvinced and I very nearly kicked the sol out of exasperation. It was like I'd stalled on purpose, just to inconvenience her, just to be Dark Link, the little storm cloud that rained on everyone's parades. Grudgingly I admitted, "I got knocked over a few times."

Rolling her eyes, she just said, "You would," before pointing at the empty one of a pair of small indentations in the dark stone. "Put it there and we'll see what happens." I set it down like she said, and watched with muted amazement as the sols reacted and lit Link's sword with an intense glitter. "The guardian deities of my world are on our side too," she grinned wickedly.

I stared. "Of course they are. Zant's face is beyond offensive." Somewhat put out, I pulled my own blade out of its sheath and stared in disappointment. "Well that was anticlimactic. Not that I really enjoy using this thing, but it'd be nice if mine sparkled too." Link _fff_'d. Then without warning he swung the Master Sword upwards and against mine with an almighty clang that chattered my teeth and left my hands numb. I was about to berate him when the metal suddenly adopted a dull sheen, a kind of black sparkle that twirled along the edges in impossible patterns. He looked entirely too pleased with himself and my undisguised amazement. "I said a sparkly sword, not a charcoaled mess," I snapped at him without venom. Hefting it lightly, I twisted the blade into a figure-eight and stared, mesmerized, at the beautiful grey and black shine it left in its wake. Link crossed his arms and leant back on his heels. "Oh, come on. You can't have known that was going to happen."

He tapped the brim of his hat, and I rolled my eyes. Midna treated us to that toothy smile of hers, practically purring, "Let's go."

The front of the main palace seemed to be drowning in a constant cascade of twilight from an unseen source. If it weren't for the impenetrable darkness shrouding the area, I might have been able to see if the building had been carved into the side of a mountain or something useful like that. After everything we'd been through, it would've been good to know if Zant were especially well-stocked in a blockaded fortress or some sort. I generally liked heads-up sorts of explanations. Most normal people did. But when would we ever get briefed when it came to ambushes? Hell, we were walking straight into this one. Or leaping, in Link's case.

Before Midna could open her mouth about sticking his sword into the first strange substance he could find, he'd taken a running start for the waterfall, let out a tremendous cry as he switched into the downswing, and smashed the blade clean through the cascade. To everyone's surprise the charged blade deflected the twilight enough to actually divert the flow on either side of the entryway, a simple set of doors under the protection of a carved awning. I eyed him suspiciously and followed more cautiously, my bow drawn rather than my most recently twilit weapon. Yeah, my sword looked pretty enough, but if his repelled twilight, would mine attract it? Would mine channel it, or do something equally strange? Somewhat distractedly, I crept along behind Link, caught almost in the edges of his shadow, while he moved swiftly through the first few rooms. Zant really tore up the place when he moved in, because the foyer, first corridor, and first hall (since the general theme of the architecture seemed to have been limited to let's-add-as-many-halls-as-we-can) had all been stripped bare of any tapestries with the royal crest and virtually destroyed. What little furniture the palace contained now rested in pitiful pieces, some charred and some clean-edged, swept along the edges and into the corners like forgotten corpses of Midna's administration.

The sols that controlled the staircases had also been misplaced; someone had rolled them into clouds of tainted twilight that crept along the floor, having filtered in from some external vent. I floated right into the thick of it and passed the sols to Link with two solid kicks, and then watched as the series of individual steps rose out of the floor. Midna sighed. "So," I began, "Do you love having parties or something?"

Blinking, her eyes narrowed and she adopted that twisted smirk. "Sure, Link. We party so hard it would make Zelda's hair curl." I couldn't tell if her words were sarcastic or not. Not a good sign. Maybe I was losing my touch. Or maybe she was being completely serious, because I could totally imagine Midna having an abnormally high tolerance for intoxicating substances, and risqué behaviour.

"No," I continued. "No, your stairs and your lifts – they all can be moved to make more space on the actual floor. They rise _out _of the floor. It's almost like you're trying to save space for something."

She adopted a thoughtful look. We'd both materialised on either side of Link's head, and while he didn't seem particularly amused with our spatial arrangement, he did seem mildly interested in our conversation. Tilting her head back, she put her hands on her hips and sighed in careful consideration. "Hmm," she muttered. "Hmm. I think – you know, I never really thought about it. My people, we like efficiency. We like clean lines and functionality. This palace isn't nearly as old as Hyrule Castle, so maybe we learned from the Hylians' mistakes..." Laughing lightly, she floated around Link's shoulders. "It's so different from Zelda's castle."

"I wouldn't exactly know, unless you've got dungeons here too," I replied dryly. Link snorted and mumbled something incoherent, leading Midna to playfully box his ears, though I didn't miss the brief worried look she sent his way. He did, after all, instigate our first foray here with his unfortunate capture, so together we were quite the authority on prison cell quality. As I nonchalantly shot a Zant head through the eye, Link ducked, annoyed, trying to swat at her as she orbited around his head while he fended off another head. "I mean, I get the whole efficiency deal. The sol switches are kind of cool. In a way. I guess."

Her grin said it all.

"I didn't mean it like-"

"I love you too, Dark Link," she smiled sweetly.

Link _fff_'d, and I did too. Midna just grinned. "Oh, my little mutes. What am I to do with you?"

_Oh, I don't know. Maybe get us out of here for a start?_ The palace was oriented in an overwhelmingly linear fashion with smaller rooms adjoining the series of disquietingly empty high-ceilinged halls, and by now, we had already passed through a showy (obliterated) library and at least two of the countless theatres. Midna kept us from checking the periphery with vague reassurances that we had no business trekking around through private quarters or deserted courts. She was right though, especially about the total unhelpfulness of a courtroom at a time like this and the fact that our one-track focus saved us valuable time. I didn't want to spend more time than necessary in such a creepy lair. Besides, aside from the shadow creatures and the infrequent other manifestations of tainted twilight, we hadn't encountered any real lifeforms, thus making the fanfare leading up to Zant a little more than unbearable. This guy's ego eclipsed the sun. Maybe that was why it was so dark and dingy in the Twilight Realm.

"You know," I started in my best simpering tone, "keeping with the efficiency theme, you might want to make the damn elevators move faster. We haven't got all day." I watched her accusingly, gesturing pointedly, impatiently at Link as he waited for the glowing runes beneath his boots to transport him to the next loft. Those stupid lifts took an eternity to do anything. I'd floated over to the exit almost upon entry, but poor Light Dwelling Link had to take the long way around by foot.

She snorted. "Pity him, he hasn't a magic bone in his body."

His raised eyebrow and mock-glare claimed, "Magic bones are overrated."

"Not when you can fly." I snickered at him. This was just too much fun. I found it hard to believe that we'd actually made it here, to the Twilight Realm, all in relatively complete pieces. In a way, it was remarkable. Link, an Ordonian ranch hand returning to action after a twenty-year time lapse, and me, a kind of accident. Our chances of success had to be abysmal, and yet, we were here, on solid twilit ground, alive. Different, but alive. We either had extraordinary luck, or ridiculous skill, and now, within a finite number of doors we'd be face to face with Zant and it would all be over. Here, at least. We'd still have that ray of sunshine Ganondorf to deal with, but we'd get there in due time. For now, I wanted to admire the balcony we'd reached, and the shifting clouds drifting just beyond reach, obscuring what might have been a valley lit by faint orange pinpricks, and extensive mountains beyond that. Barring the apparent abyss separating the foundations of the palace from the prospective valley, it was beautiful. The light even had a soft and fuzzy and indistinct quality that made me feel at _home_, which probably should have been more of an alarming thing than a comfort. But hey, I was willing to take anything that eased the general anxiety of being here.

When I spun around to face the reality of our expedition again, I wanted to smack my forehead. Link had found himself a fine collection of angry heads and he was battling it out with them right in front of another waterfall of twilight. I reached him within six steps, during which time I sniped at a few of his little problems. He rolled his eyes at me and _fff_'d, most likely commenting on my late reaction, but I just scoffed, bow still drawn albeit uselessly at such close range. As another rushed at me, I yanked out my sword, demanding, "Seriously, what is his fascination with these stupid heads? I don't understand the point in having them. The shadow things are more of a threat."

'_Enemy's advocate, are you?_'

The sounds of our scuffle attracted the attention of a flock of birds; to my left, Link had begun picking them off with his clawshot. I watched for a few minutes, then flexed my hands and readjusted my gauntlets. "You know what would be really cool? If I could harness all those birds and make them fly me around. Can you imagine that?"

_You're an idiot_, he glared. I grinned. And drove my shiny blade home through another head when a new group cropped up from the other side of the cascade. Link had rolled beneath a second, only to spring up and kill two at once with an intense spin attack, now that the birds had backed off. A clawshot to the face tended to have that effect. I rounded on him, leaning against my sword like a cane.

"Well aren't you fancy."

He dismissed me with a careless toss of his head, and dispatched the waterfall much the same way. This time though, rather than the waterfall guarding an entrance, it obscured a utility shaft of some sort draped in netting. Great. I loved finding dark, narrow places that led to goddesses knew where. It definitely got old after a while, but when I made to comment on our discovery, I noticed that Midna had her tongue between her teeth and a speculative look on her face. She caught my eye, twitched a nose I hadn't even known she had, and vanished up the creepy shaft in an obvious request.

Trailing her suspiciously, I scrutinised her expression and movements when we abruptly halted at the top, a narrow stone landing covered in nets and the worn cords that secured everything to metal rings. "Is something wrong?" Below us, Link was very noisily clawshot-ing his way up the walls and throwing us dirty looks with every other shot. "Because I'd definitely like to know about any sort of problems now, rather than in the midst of something ridiculous."

Her voice dropped considerably. "I wouldn't say _wrong_," she mumbled, casting a strained glance at the big chest. "But I don't know. I just, I need you to know that in case anything goes wrong, he has to be warped out, or at the very least, taken back to the Mirror."

"I can't warp." A terribly warm sickness had invaded my stomach. If anything went wrong? What was she playing at? I'd gotten myself hyped up on confidence and vengeance; I couldn't come back down now, not to this. I couldn't lose either of them now. "What could go that wrong?"

"I don't know- I'm just saying. As a back-up." Paling a little, she glanced back down at him. He was awkwardly adjusting the chain guard one-handed, the toes of his boots just barely resting on the rungs, his other hand tangled in the ropes above his head. Talented fellow, Link. "I don't want him to ever have to experience – I can't leave him here again. No matter what, he must be returned to Hyrule. He can't survive here, and if Zant somehow wins, I don't know what he'll do. But I will not let him hurt Link. Promise me you'll get him out, if something goes wrong." I stared at her, searching her gaze, but all I found was distinct determination and enraged passion. "Promise me, Link."

Just what the hell did "wrong" entail? From what I'd seen, Zant couldn't bring himself to actually kill Midna, not when he clearly pined for her affection. That scene in the throne room way back when was enough evidence of his delusion, and then in the sky garden, he'd used her as bait and left her incapacitated but decidedly alive. Sure, maybe he'd intended to leave her to die, but I liked to believe that he might have done a better job with injuring her if he had been at all serious about it. Instead, he'd left a window of opportunity for all of us to survive. For all his crazy magic and psychosis, he couldn't possibly be that inept, although I wouldn't necessarily mind. Just as all of that ran through my head, Midna jostled my shoulder urgently, not daring to say anything as Link clambered up onto the landing beside me.

"Okay. I promise." But I felt like I was signing someone's death sentence. I just hoped fervently that it wouldn't come down to my hapless warping skills because I would sorely disappoint and I had no desire to see people die on account of that.

Link looked less than impressed, but nevertheless proceeded past us unquestioningly, clattering out of the shaft and into a tiny corridor that twisted away around a sharp corner. _Most definitely servants' passages_. He passed through the door directly before us and snuffled triumphantly at the new hall, the grandest yet, fitted out with what had to be the last intact tapestries depicted familiar patterns. To our left stood an archway that led to a stripped lounge, and to our right towered a pair of double doors, gilded with the same crying stylised eye as the one on Midna's headdress. We collectively paused to take it all in, even Midna, the three of us shoulder to shoulder.

Link twisted around in the sudden silence and looked hard at me, and I almost thought he was going to say something – but he just looked at me, looked at the door, and paled a little. He'd told me that the stutter was a recent acquisition, that they'd realised only after his rescue. The emotional trauma of Ilia's death had given Ren his; I could hardly begin to imagine what rattled this overwhelmingly courageous, resilient fighter.

"I've got your back," I said unthinkingly. Quiet electricity ran between us, the three of us, as Midna descended and rested a hand on his shoulder. I could tell he wanted desperately to shake it off, but he didn't. He just stood there, looking tired and nearly scared. I couldn't take it, and judging by the strain filtering in from Zelda, neither could she. "We can do this. It's three on one. No contest. I mean, just look at us. That ugly bastard has no chance."

He shook his head, a half-smile tugging at his mouth but it vanished within a few seconds. _I know we can_. His jaw dropped the slightest bit as if he wanted to say something else. But he drew his sword instead and reached for one of the handles, head tilted as a cue for me to grab the other. The doors swung inwards soundlessly. Sharing a glance, he clasped my shoulder, hard, let out a hard sigh, and entered the darkness of the throne room. I could never respect anyone more than Link in that moment.


	39. little black backpack

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Little Black Backpack by Stroke 9.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"To merge shadow and light… and make darkness!"

And then he shrieked. Again. All this damn character did was shriek and make my ears freaking bleed all over the place. I was glad to be Hyrulean if all these Twili politicians did was shriek their faces off. I couldn't even imagine the council meetings. Then again, I didn't know anything about Hyrulean politics either, so maybe the goings-on in Hyrule Castle were just as painful. Damn demagogues. I hated politics. I hated glamours more, especially when Zant was behind them and seemed to be trying his hardest to throw us for a loop.

"OI!" I shouted suddenly. As much as I hated being in the throne room, the glamour made it about ten times worse: the sable floor gave way to uneven, swampy ground that disappeared into a foul-smelling pond full of milky-pink liquid. Zant hovered well out of reach of anyone or anything on the shore, still screeching about his god's superiority, which should have been a clue for us. The liquid was actually some sort of acid that, when Link strayed a little too close to the edge, almost burnt a hole through the toe of his boot. He scrambled backwards in pain and surprise, at the same time hastily throwing up his shield to deflect Zant's energy bursts. Dumb bastard. He might be able to thwart the resident Light Dweller, but he couldn't avoid me. To Zant's dismay, I rocketed at him, sword drawn, herding him towards Link on the shore. He rolled to the side and whipped out a boomerang, hurriedly knocking the Twili from the air and slashing at him when he tumbled to the ground. The idiot didn't even bother with defending himself – he just waved his body around as if his clumsy movement would protect him from Link's determination. The second the Master Sword met flesh, Zant loosed a bloodcurdling cry, the ground shook and shifted, and the temperature shot up.

"A sauna, really?"

"It's a replica of the Goron Mines. The rock is magnetic," Midna explained anxiously, waiting for an opportunity to exchange Link's boomerang for the iron boots. "He's taunting us!"

Nothing new with the taunts, but the heat and surrounding lava weren't the worst of it because obviously lava couldn't possibly suck enough on its own. Link no longer stood in mud, but instead slid across a bright blue, perfectly flat marbled surface almost like tile. That wouldn't have been an issue if it hadn't been for the way the blue rock _floated_ in the lava, a treacherous island, thus allowing it to tilt crazily according to how its passengers shifted their weight. And of course, Zant wasted no time in hopping around haphazardly like a cucco on fire, all the while keeping up a barrage of energy bursts that prevented Link from doing much of anything aside from attempting to maintain his balance. He suddenly held up both hands in a sharp gesture that I interpreted as the initiation of a diversionary tactic, and obligingly swooped in, firing off arrows at Zant's head in quick succession. I bought just enough time for the weapon exchange before the Dragmire-infused magic sent me skittering across the island, very narrowly escaping incineration. For a glamour, that shit actually burnt. What the hell did he think he was playing at?

And next, he vanished. Link, still crouched and swordhand twitching, jerked his head until I joined him so that we stood back-to-back and ready to go for whenever Zant decided to pop in again. great setup, except for all his faults, he wasn't stupid enough to attack the pair of us together. This time, we switched roles so that Link drew fire while I materialised right underneath Mr. Fake Shadow King, blade catching him in the gut but doing minimal damage in comparison to the bloody gashes from the Master Sword. He hissed at me; a slow, warm sick feeling spread through my chest and I turned clumsily as he rose into the air a third time. Link had a look of alarm on his face, and, unless my vision had been severely impaired by whatever was in those energy balls, he wore a blue tunic in place of his usual green one. Blinking, I tried shaking my head, managing to momentarily dislodge the sinking sensation, but unable to determine if the blue tunic was real. Where the hell had he pulled a blue tunic from, and why did he have flippers? It looked like he'd taken on some sort of half-fish, half-man, superhero-

'_He has the Zora armour, remember? Are you all right?'_

Ignoring the tinny voice, I squinted at Link, but he just started waving frantically at the ground. "I won't disappear on you. Why'd you change…?" But I didn't get to finish, because the sudden presence of terribly cold water and tremendous pressure stoppered my words. Choking slightly on the little bit of liquid I'd inhaled, I dissolved into transience to collect my wits, the water sufficiently rousing my flagging concentration. Somehow, he'd transformed the room into an underwater cavern, complete with sandy bottom, stray seaweed, and coral cave structures. If Zant could pull off an environment like this on his magic alone, I really _really_ wanted to know where he learned how. My quality of life would seriously improve with that knowledge. If he would just stand still and die like any respectable enemy, my life would also be so much less stressful.

Midna flitted to my shoulder, and together we watched as Link darted through the water with a Zora's grace. The first thing she said was "He told you to be careful," and without the courtesy of eye-contact. Instead, her eye was firmly fixed on what had developed into a duel, following every move of the combatants, from Link's dodges and clumsy slashes to Zant's rapid and highly obnoxious warping.

"You're being smug with me _now_?" I snapped incredulously. "I could've drowned, no thanks to you!"

She pointed abruptly at the coral, which I belatedly recognised as part of a crude replica of Zant's headdress. I muttered something about his insatiable ego while she waved vaguely at Link's actions. "The strength of his magic is unbelievable."

"Thanks for the pep talk, princess. The morale was really starting to flag."

"Link, really?" She almost looked hurt, but I couldn't fathom why – until my next question, characteristically phrased without regard to tact.

"Why aren't you fighting?" In my head, it was a valid point: we were in the midst of an undoubtedly important battle – maybe the second most important we would ever fight – and instead of getting in on the action, she was here in the shadows, lurking, telling me what I already knew, or could guess. Not that I minded, particularly. It just struck me as strange.

Midna's eye glinted in surprise, then sadness, then positive fury, but not at me, for once. "I'm no use here. Something's limiting my magic, and besides, you and I both know I'd only be in the way." She stretched out a tiny star of a hand and conjured only a miniature flame of crackling energy despite her blatant effort. "The most I can do is provide weapons and support," she spat, thoroughly disgusted, though I couldn't tell if it was directed at herself, Zant, or both. I nodded in vague agreement.

"I… Sure." Nearby, Link crashed to the sand after being knocked off his feet by an energy blast. I'd opened my mouth to say something else to Midna, but something had occurred to me, and Link was still down, still trying to get to his knees against the extreme pressure. Even in transient form I could feel the steadily increasing pressure bearing down on my neck and heart and the sides of my chest. _How the hell is he still _fighting_?_

Then I remembered my idea, just as Zant retreated to the refuge of the headdress structure.

I flew past Link, posed in his battle crouch, and kept pressing with the utmost speed until I sensed the terrifyingly impressive aura of Zant himself just ahead, at the heart of the coral structure. A few blurred seconds later, I rematerialised right over him, blade drawn, ready to plunge it right into his ugly skull – when he looked up.

"Shadow," he greeted, borderline happily. I shrank back, arrested in mid-action. "How good of you to join me."

Without thinking, I charged at him, felt my blade slide across flesh, and promptly froze in the momentum of the swing. A bolt of terrible electricity ran through me, and, breathless, I fled the chamber as Link conveniently hooked my attacker with the clawshot. Blindly I scrambled along the sandy floor, dangerously close to accidentally solidifying, when her hands wrapped around my arm and yanked me into the nearest pool of shadows.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" she demanded. I had a hard time trying to process her words and the meaning behind them; I still felt jittery and frozen, brittle like ice. _I don't know what I'm trying to do, but I sure as hell wish I would stop._ She grasped my hands in hers and began chafing them. "Oh, for Din's sake, _say_ something! Your eyes are scaring me!"

"Mmm. G-goddesses," I gasped finally. "I'm fine. I'm fine!" I yanked my hands away from her. She sighed in something like relief. Then she adopted her angry look.

"Yes, you're fine all right. Stop being such an idiot," Midna barked. "You can't just go off like that. You've got to coordinate with him, other-"

I pointed above us. "Yeah, coordinate. Coordinate my foot. Look at him, he's tired, and I'm tired, and I don't think I-" Link's head kept whipping around. It looked like the stage had changed, but I couldn't tell exactly if that was true, or just the result of my screwy vision or the fact that I'd abandoned physical form. My head was swimming again.

"We're outside the castle, on the bridge," she replied, seemingly reading my thoughts. "We're close to finish- Link? Link, what are you doing? Are you all right?"

_I'm clutching my head, what does it look like I'm doing?_

But Zant interrupted with more frenzied shrieking, his fists beating the air as he jumped up and down on the slick stone. We must have been on the last stone causeway before the castle proper; to make things even better, it was drizzling, cutting visibility to practically nothing worth mentioning. If I could barely see in the rain-washed gloom, I could only imagine how Link was faring. _Goddesses dammit, why won't he just surrender?_ With more effort that it should've taken, I rematerialised beside Link and nearly fell sideways as the dizziness returned – fleetingly. A split second later and it had gone, so that when I blinked away the spots and got a proper look around, two things registered: the awful cacophony of scimitars being scraped together threateningly, and a snuffling noise from Link. Why homicidal, power-hungry, maniacal fanatics were allowed to have weapons totally escaped me, because the way he brandished his twin blades and started lashing out at the air with them, still shrieking furiously, and loud enough to shatter glass – in no way did I get a warm, fuzzy feeling. I just felt cold and wet and tired, and just plain terrified at the sight of it. Thankfully, the cloudedness in my head alleviated my problems, enough for me to resort to mirroring Link's movements... but my vision kept fading in and out of a red-tinted version of the world. I only managed to coordinate a handful of manoeuvres before I unexpectedly and unwillingly dematerialised, too weak to hold my form. Midna mumbled something, maybe. Link shouted something. He shouted it again. Blades clanged together.

And very confusingly I found myself between a bloody Master Sword and a gloating Twili – except I was literally between the tip of the blade and the insane usurper behind me. And I couldn't move, or speak. Everything had taken on a red, hazy glow, even the look of absolute horror and bewilderment on Link's pale face. His sword had caught me across my forearm in his botched attempt to check the downward slice, but I couldn't figure out why, or why it didn't hurt. My thoughts felt too viscous. I was grinning, for some insane reason, and Midna squealed, and then I was moving, drawing my own sword and swinging it awkwardly right at Link's nose. Zant had dropped to a knee behind me, panting heavily and only keeping himself upright by a steadying hand against the ground.

"That's it!" The smile was evident in his tone. "You… My puppet! My puppet! Midna, I swore to you- I always… My god-" He kept screaming. Incoherent.

"SHUT UP!" Midna matched his tone and volume. "SHUT UP!" Gibberish. Then: "His eyes!" She was gasping somewhere nearby. "Goddesses, it's the knife! It's a spell!"

But Link wouldn't raise his sword against me, and I couldn't stop. I thought maybe we were back in the throne room, and Zant was telling us another story, even as I slashed at my friend and he firmly blocked my offense, but I couldn't tell which way was up anymore. Everything flickered black, then red, then black, someone kept screaming at the top of their lungs, and someone's eyes glowed a brilliant colour I couldn't see. He'd called me his puppet.

"I will have my revenge!" he was howling from behind us. "I will kill you! I will kill you, and my god will reward me!" Time stood still. Midna hung frozen in furious horror, bound by tendrils of shadow magic, while I stood on my own, shoulders rolled and face downcast, trapped by an awesome power. "You," Zant kept spluttering. "You have foiled our plans enough. I am finished with these games, mutt. We are finished with these games and – oh, does that hurt?"

Black, red, and Link's eyes were huge and glassy, his face chalk-white from whatever Zant was doing to him. I felt like someone had rooted me to the spot with an iron rod, like I had been cast in stone. It was so cold. Midna wailed in pain and in a false appeal, but I knew he wouldn't fall for her ruse this time. A dark power kept rising and falling within my veins, and I stood there, stoically watching Link pant and sweat in pure terror as Zant bore down with crackling fists and wild eyes. Everything went black again, but people kept talking loudly in gibberish.

"FINISH HIM!"

Link suddenly rose into the air and flew backwards, smashing into the back wall with tremendous force. Her words threaded through the hazy blankness of my thoughts: _I can't warp him out of anywhere, Midna. Oh, goddesses, I'm going to get him killed. _A cold stone of horror had dropped into my stomach, and then I was above him, sword poised, roaring in my ears, Midna screaming-

'_LINK!_ STOP!'

With a wrenching effort, feeling crashed back into my nerves and I spun around, panting and grunting, until my sword had buried itself to the hilt in Zant. "I am _not_ your puppet, you crazy bastard!" Tendrils of orange and red and raw angry power twisted themselves around and through the Twili's body, and I let go of my weapon, staggering back a few paces until someone grabbed my shoulders. The jittery feeling had vanished, only to be replaced by sour exhaustion. My sword clattered to the throne room floor. Floating just beside me, Midna twisted around slowly, her expression the picture of awe. Something about a fraction of her power. Did that all just happen?

"You couldn't have done that in the first place?" She jostled my shoulder, and I jostled her back, and together we sprinted back to where Link lay crumpled on the floor. My arm was a bloody mess. I felt like a mess in general. A really, really tired mess. Link looked like a dead mess. Sighing, she drifted over and pressed something sparkly into my hands, and the bleeding stopped. She dripped some of the fairy tears over his face while I sank to the floor and pressed my cheek against the cool tile.

"Glad to know you only momentarily lost your mind," she said quietly. She sounded disappointed. Exhausted. "Link, can you hear me?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I snapped back at her. "Why the hell… Agh. Din. Well I'm glad it didn't come down to my warping skills, or lack thereof. Nayru, Link, wake up. Party's over, you can't die now." Pressing a hand to my head, I rolled onto my back and felt around for my sword, eyes firmly shut. Midna sighed angrily overhead, and judging by the clatter of equipment beside me, Link finally decided to join the world of the living. "I feel like shit."

"You look like shit. Are you quite all right now?" A sense of déjà vu, and the feeling of someone tapping my face. "I'm awake," but it came out as a mumble. She sighed again. "It's not exactly beneficial to us if you can be turned against us like that."

"I didn't volunteer. In case you couldn't notice, I had no control. And it was scary. And I really don't appreciate being patronized for what the bastard thought would be a funny party trick."

"S-s-s-s-s-…s-some-some p-party-ty-y." He punched my shoulder lightly, and I felt his hand slipping into mine, pulling me upright against my will. I groaned at him but he just laughed, an unnaturally high-pitched sound that grated against my nerves. Why he was laughing, I couldn't even begin to understand – his skin was almost transparent in its pallor, and his wiry frame was noticeably shaking. And the pitch of his voice- I could see his hands trembling against his legs. I could _hear_ the faint rattling of his sheath against his shield. When I fixed a hard glare at him, he turned away.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Leaning forward against my knees, I hid my head again. "Is he really dead?"

"For now. I'm still an imp."

"That's reassuring."

Link patted my back and stood, and pulled me up with him, careful this time not to brush my hand with his own tremulous fingers. I wavered a second and hated myself for it. It felt like my body was entirely someone else's, a marionette or a newborn colt. "You don't look right," I stated to him bluntly. He snorted. "From what I remember, you were thrown into a wall."

He screwed up his expression and bit back, "Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa…" Flustered. He took a breath and tried again, but it occurred to me that he looked even paler and about ten times as jittery as I felt. "Pa-pa… fff… pa-pa…tron-tronising-ing."

"Are you all right?" I looked at him, feeling the worry scrunching my face, but he refused to answer. He looked confused.

Then Midna flitted by and created a portal through the floor with a small smile on her face, the empty bottle from the tears clutched absently in a hand. "We can warp again. It'll make travelling easier." She nodded at the floor, and at us, before breaking out into a true grin. Automatically, Link smiled as well, and I felt myself smirk in appreciation. "Now let's go save Zelda-" And somewhere in the fading darkness of my mind, I felt the warmth of Zelda's presence pulsate with something like joy.

Think you can hold out a little longer? I promise not to leave you in a nasty dungeon.

'_Just for you, Link_,' she murmured, smiling. '_Just for you_.'


	40. put me back together

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Put Me Back Together by Weezer.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

"Zelda, you should stick to lawn gnomes," I announced dryly. Beside me on the steps, Link stretched lazily and scoffed at Midna's eye roll. We had just finished raiding the castle grounds and gardens, ousting the numerous pests and avoiding the hordes of soldiers swarming the area, and once gaining access to the castle itself, had decided to take a little breather before delving into more madness. Not to mention the fact that I felt like I was drowning in guilt, and desperately trying to hide it with clever words, as per usual. "They're a bit less dangerous than, I don't know, _trolls_."

Inside, her presence pulsated at the back of my mind, a breathy, kind of fuzzy brightness. '_Your suggestion has been duly noted_,' she snickered, and the same time gave me a nudge I clearly needed. Even if I only knew her as a disembodied voice, I liked the way her words always managed to motivate me, and the way her light glowed a soft blue-white whenever she was happy. Since entering the actual grounds, she seemed to be closer and stronger and just more present than ever before, probably since we were nearing the end of this insane journey. And for the first time, I realised that I _really_ desperately wanted to meet her, and talk to her, as a person and not just a little light inside my head. Midna had a terrible look on her face, and despite my hopeful thoughts of legitimately meeting the faceless Zelda, I pulled a spectacular scowl.

"I know what you're thinking, and the answer's no."

"Oh, psychic now, are we?" she leered. "Don't forget that she and I are nearly the same person at the moment." Link leant over, punched my shoulder, but I just shook my head at him. "We'll go inside soon, so stop it with that look and enjoy the fresh air while you can. We've been out here a good while already."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't ruin the moment any more than you have to, Midna, you sneaky eavesdropper, you." She tried blowing a raspberry, but I dissolved before she could complete the action, and ended up sulking around a mess of broken crates in the corner anyway. I reappeared just as Link took a huge bite of an apple Midna had mysteriously produced for him earlier. "So, about the whole, possession-and-subsequent-attempted-murder deal," I told him matter-of-factly. He looked mildly startled, but continued chewing steadily, pretending he couldn't hear me. From the other side of him, I caught Midna's curious look and chose to ignore it. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, I rubbed at my face awkwardly, already feeling the heat creeping up my neck. I felt terrible enough as it was; Midna's words kept bouncing around in my head: "It's not exactly beneficial to us if you can be turned against us like that." The burning hint of betrayal hit me harder than anyone. _That's not gonna cut it, Link. You don't just shake your head at the guy who tried to kill you._ "I'm sorry, Link. If you're gonna forgive me, at least say it out loud so I can pretend to feel better about it," I responded with a little irritation. Blankly, he stared. Then: "Mmhmm." I felt my own eyes narrow. "Link, I almost killed you. I kind of feel terrible about it, and I know you mean to forgive me with your ridiculous charades antics, but I kind of need verbal confirmation on this one." The look he gave me almost exemplified confused hurt – then I got an idea.

"Just say it slowly, and you won't stutter." Now he just rolled his eyes and coughed annoyingly. He opened his mouth to say something- When he shut it again with a flicker of anxiety, I wished he would at least make some sort of attempt. I honestly missed his one-word interjections, or his deadpanning. It wasn't about the forgiveness anymore. Link was a witty guy, once you hung out with him for a while. A long while. But I kind of really did need his verbal, "Yes, Link, I forgive you for trying to kill me while under the influence of a crazy shadow bastard king." _Now you're just encouraging me_.

Since said crazy shadow bastard king, his stuttering had taken a turn for the worse, and he had a terrible habit of flinching at the slightest movement, a regression to his initial behaviour after the rescue. Before, he could get general ideas across – now, he would repeat syllables over and over again until he got so discouraged that he refused to talk to us at all. Completely mute. So mute, that Midna would just talk nervously at times to fill the empty air. The emptier air. Regardless, I could tell she was scared and he was unsettled, but each unwilling to actually confront the problem. Which left me. And everyone knew just hope inept I could be with such a problem.

From what Midna had told me of her early days with Link, he'd been tacit and prone to concise answers anyway, similar to his occasional interjections. He saw words as extraneous sometimes, and made use of gestures. Simple logic, but effective. Then he was kidnapped by Zant and the stuttering started, forcing him to new heights of succinctness because he simply couldn't articulate things sometimes: when he was nervous or otherwise emotional, it became near impossible to get an unencumbered response. Zelda attributed the development to his harsh treatment at Zant's hands. I didn't know what to attribute it to, but I saw how it hurt him and Midna and sometimes me, too, and I wanted it to stop. I wanted to get him to talk slower, and enunciate more, and somehow smooth out the difficulties he kept exhibiting. Zelda and I both agreed now, in some shining instant, that the run-in with Zant had managed to shake him up considerably and aggravate the already aggravating speech impediment. His total silence, though, was beginning to really grate on my nerves, until I burst out:

"Fine, then. If you can't find work after we kill Ganondorf, you could always apply as a court jester for Zelda." Midna glared at me with such intensity I thought her eye might catch fire. I shrugged and readjusted my sword buckles, even as Link snorted and waved me away. "Just trying to be helpful. I hear mimes are popular these days."

"Link, cut it out!" she snapped. "You're not being helpful, you're being an ass and you know it." She looked about ready to jump in front of his face and shield him from my terrible influence. _Oh snap, big bad scary Dark Link was on the prowl. Hide your children_.

"Well, excuse me, O Twilight Princess."

Her teeth flashed in the watery light bathing the castle entrance. Zelda giggled from somewhere. Link kept flapping his hand to keep her quiet, but Midna wouldn't have it. "Don't you dare hush me, you troublesome idiot!" Ooh, she was growling now. I offered a half-grin, but she caught it and jerked the back of my collar from her place amongst the floor shadows. "Stop it, before I sew your mouth shut. Goddesses only know why _he's_ silent, and _you_, of all people, can talk."

"Oh, Midna." Putting a hand over my heart and feigning dramatic hurt, I leant over her, but out of her reach. "I'm hurt. I'm right wounded, I am." She kept growling. I just smirked. "We're going to fix that stutter though. Link, start talking. Just talk slow. C'mon. This is so going to work, you'll see."

He looked thoroughly unimpressed. _You know I forgive you already, so stop bothering me. _"Hmph."

"Don't hmph at me. I'm going to make this work!"

His brows had converged in a single flat line. It was actually kind of unsettling the way he conveyed, "For your sake or mine?"

"Yours, obviously," I snapped. "Actually, maybe both. Don't you know how boring it is talking to a wall? Granted, you're more mobile than the average wall, and not quite as thick-"

Midna had her hands balled into fists while she raged, "We're going inside, now."

I crowed at her, "Ooh, look at bossy little Princess Midna, getting all authoritative on us!" Moving fluidly, Link thrust his hand between mine and Midna's faces, which had nearly crashed together in anticipation of a violent altercation.

"Watch yourself, shadow," she snarled, hair curling suggestively over her headdress, "or all that'll be left of you will _be_ a shadow."

"I'm so scared," I mocked.

"Shh-shut-t up."

Both our eyes widening, I leant forward, moving through his outstretched hand, and grasped his shoulders. "See, it'll work!" But he just rolled his eyes and pointed at the door, jerking his head again for good measure. "Yeah, I get the message. But apparently so did you." I winked obnoxiously at the skulking shadow hovering by the door. "See, my idea worked."

"Oh, yeah," she replied as Link kicked down the door, the ricketiest looking one we could find amongst the servant entrances, and led us into the conquered splendour of service passage of Hyrule Castle, "just like your last one, right? That one was brilliant, Link. Real brilliant. Can I see the burns?"

She did have a point, one that I was only too willing to admit. Zant's borrowed magic had freaking _hurt_ – you weren't supposed to hit people with that kind of energy. Hell, you weren't supposed to even _possess_ that kind of energy to begin with. In an attempt to dodge the accusation in her last statement, I started readjusting my gauntlets. Even as we prepared for battle with the growing horde of evil minions, I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. "At least I contributed." She turned her nose away, and I knew I'd won. Link chucked a broken table leg at my head. The nerve of some people.

Hyrule Castle didn't have a linear sort of construction like the Palace of Twilight but rather a more traditional orientation: eight major outer towers, part of the wall that enclosed the courtyard, served as observatories, overlooking the entirety of the town as well as the whole of the surrounding countryside; six lesser towers joined the castle proper, the inner, tallest tower of the entire structure and probably the one that contained the throne room, in addition to grand halls and darkened corridors. The interior, though, did resemble the predominant scheme for the Palace of Twilight – gloomy, and with entirely too much clear floor space undoubtedly devoted to sinister purposes. I supposed that Zelda might have had this area reserved for some sort of welcoming party, or a ball of some sort, but the lack of doors disputed this. Maybe when Draggy moved in, he'd decided to rearrange the inside with whatever magic powers he possessed, to make it that much more sadistic and annoying to navigate. I wouldn't put it past him. The destruction of the furniture and tapestries also came as no surprise. I just didn't get why he never bothered to pick up any of the discarded pieces in the twenty years he'd been in power; instead, he'd just left them in dusty piles lined up against painfully bare walls. No sense in decorating a place you'd hijacked, apparently.

No sense in staffing it, either. Despite only standing in the entrance hall or atrium, I could tell the place was utterly devoid of normal castle life. No council members, no maids, no nobles scurrying about the place. Granted, I'd never been in the castle before and it hadn't operated properly at any point during my lifetime, but I did have expectations and they were certainly not met here. All the doors on the lower level of this hall had been locked with heavy chains and barred by hastily-nailed planks, leaving the only exit out a second-storey balcony. Link reached it by using the unlit crystal chandelier that hung in the centre of the room and the sconce by the door as clawshot targets. Naturally, I just levitated myself to the new level, gloating at him the entire time to dispel the uneasiness of knowing that our purpose essentially revolved around finding and killing the only guy left in here. Well, the only guy aside from the handful of soldiers patrolling the place, as we discovered upon entering the next room, an intersection between another corridor that stretched away on both sides to unknown areas, and a short hallway guarded by a few men. Taking their presence as a cue, we dispatched them in a matter of a few moves and went on our merry way. Classy, using men as trailmarkers. Dragmire obviously had his priorities in order. Lead us to him with their placement inside, and prevent our escape by surrounding us outside. It was painfully obvious in the sheer numbers: we could and did easily sneak inside, but getting out again would be another story; there were just too many to fight. Hopefully Midna would just warp us all out and forego the trouble.

The second we cleared the area of enemies, I hovered in front of Link's face, hands on my hips, Midna-style. "So, what exactly is the plan? For when we find Draggy and kill him and everything?" Midna stared at me from the ground, so I pressed on, even as Link kicked down a new door when the doorknob refused to yield. "Well, aside from fixing all the things you've _vandalised_, what are we going to do afterwards? I want a massive party."

"A party?" she repeated flatly, almost disbelievingly. Link swatted at me until I turned transient and began trailing him instead, clutching the bottle of lantern oil he'd entrusted to my care. "We defeat the man who's been terrorising Hyrule for the past two decades and all you can think about is a party?"

"There's plenty of available floorspace. I don't see the problem. Well. Unless you count the doors and things Link has broken, but that's all on him."

Rolling her eyes, she glanced briefly at Link, who snorted at her attitude. He scuffed the dusty tile floor with a boot, something I interpreted as, _Give the kid a break_. Midna just shook her head. "Fine, Link, a party it is. You can even invite your Zora friends."

"Friends my foot." I pulled a face; Link rammed a door with his shoulder. When it gave, we found ourselves in a small alcove full of unlit braziers and a single exit, blocked with iron bars and unseen magic. "Friends don't assault friends- oh, _wait_, that perfectly describes _our _relationship, so we must all be _besties_!"

"It isn't torture if it's done with love."

"Cute," I snapped back at her, though I meant nothing by it. I thought it was kind of funny, in a way, this little game of good-natured harassment. Hanging out with the biggest sadists in the world had predictably adverse effects. He'd moved over to the braziers for a closer look and, buoyed up by a distinct lack of opposition, I took to obscuring his vision again by popping out through the bowl of the torch and making him flinch, dangling the bottle of oil. "Say it. C'mon. We're gonna rid you of that stutter forever."

Thoroughly unimpressed, he crossed his arms and huffed, but surprisingly Midna did not fly to his aid like she usually did whenever I antagonised him. I almost glanced around out of habit, since I liked the way my head was attached to the rest of my body. From where he was standing, he couldn't see it, but Midna had appeared just behind his shoulder, her tiny hands pressed to her mouth, trying to hide a wicked grin. Then he very reluctantly inclined his head slightly and grudgingly mumbled, "G-g-g-g-give-give m-me the damn-damn-damn… damn… bot-bottle-le, you-you-you st-stupid prick-ick."

I clapped my hands together and handed him the oil; he growled back, teeth bared and shining in the gloomy corridor, enough of a threat for me to keep my mouth shut. Vaguely, I wondered why there weren't any chandeliers here, in an out-of-the-way, windowless hallway with creepy suits of armour that looked like they had never been and would never be worn. While he filled the lantern, I scuffed a boot at the tattered rug and the strange footprints set into the dust.

"Hey, look at this. Someone was in here." Reaching downward and tugging at the carpet, I pressed a palm into the relatively fresh tracks. "There's something in there," I muttered. "I don't think it's going to be friendly."

"N-n-nev-never g-guess-ssed."

My head snapped in his direction. "In case you've forgotten, I'm trying to _help _you with that stutter. You know, _help_ you. So maybe you shouldn't insult me."

Scoffing loudly, he rolled his eyes. "Nec-necessary-ssary."

"You _have_ been speaking full sentences since I first mentioned my idea. I think that's kind of important."

"It involves _your_ idea, so of course you'd consider it important," Midna chimed in. We both ignored her, instead electing to stare down one another. From the hidden amusement evident in his snarky grin, I could tell he was enjoying this. Then the door rattled open from Link's ceremonial lighting of the torches, and I snorted at the ridiculousness of the situation. Who the hell juxtaposed torch-lighting and locked doors? If we weren't so close to Ganondorf, I might have volunteered to pass through the wall and unlock the door from the other side, but there was no way in hell I'd chance it with the possibility of his special brand of magic. I had yet to even begin to prepare mentally for the upcoming confrontation. After all this time, I still clung to my initial declaration of favouring the pacifist's view of life – for Farore's sake, I was an archer, not a swordsman like Link, and it showed in conflict. I'd rather hang back and pick things off one by one than rush in crazily with only a sword to defend myself from bloodthirsty opponents. I didn't even have the option of defence now since I'd ruined my shield back in the City in the Sky. Brilliant work on my part. And awful though it sounded, now that Link had returned and taken control of this venture, I could finally sink into the shadows and only worry about providing support, which suited me just fine. I was just beginning to consider how that support-only function was starting to fade into one with more responsibilities. I wouldn't always be a part of Link's shadow; at some point, I'd have to make my own way, and that thought scared me. But I'd cross that bridge when I got there.

_You know, you should really start planning on some serious remodelling, Zelda. The state of the_- _Zelda?_ I froze in the doorway. Link turned, annoyed at my behaviour, but I could only wave my hands around uselessly, flustered, too caught up in this development to pay much attention to the Lizalfos rushing at us from the other side of the room. _Zelda?_ Her presence flickered weakly, too weakly to articulate a response, but she seemed to be attempting a kind of reassurance. I assumed she was off doing something more important. As the second of the pair raised its weapon to decapitate me, I automatically lurched forward to utilise its momentum. Some tricky de- and rematerialisation later, and Midna frowned upon my apparent abuse of power, recoiling in disgust at the heart I tossed onto the floor. Link just poked at it a few times with the tip of his sword.

"Really?" she barked at me, all but wincing at the twitching organ. "Why the hell would you do that? Don't answer me – that was rhetorical. I don't want to know." After shuddering for a third time, she disposed of it, all with a terrible scowl in my direction. "You are disgusting."

"What can I say? I capture hearts. Literally." Link pretended to gag. Then he disappeared outside onto an exposed stone causeway that wrapped around out of sight, the same one that connected the main tower to the auxiliaries, and I gave her my best obnoxiously brilliant smile: "You know you love me, deep down."

Rolling her eyes, she thrust her hips forward and rested her fists on them. "Look," she started in that terrible simpering voice from the Temple of Time, "I know you're just trying to help, but this may not be the best-"

I pointed roughly at the open door. Very faintly the sounds of clanging swords drifted inside. "That is a truly terrible juxtaposition. But regardless, it's not like you've done anything," I countered. "He's not stupid. He knows you don't like his stutter, and I know that the two of you have argued over it before. You call that help? Calling him out on it and making him feel terrible?"

"I'm not making him feel terrible! It's not about-"

"Oh yeah? He looks _real_ happy, Midna. He looks so goddesses-damned happy he's bursting at the freaking seams."

"Don't you try and lecture me, you-"

"Don't start the name game, princess," I snapped back, just as harshly. "I'm just trying to help. I don't know why you find that to be such an evil action – it's not like I've got some awful ulterior motive- I just want to help the damn guy talk normally again."

She fell silent. Her face bore an almost hurt expression, uncharacteristic of her and of the situation. I thought it was pretty obvious that I meant no harm, throne room debacle aside. "I'm not trying to say you have some ulterior motive, and I'm not saying I'm opposed to what you're doing. This isn't about his stutter, aside from the fact that I'm worried, for his sake. I'm just trying to protect him. In case you haven't noticed, we've got bigger problems to worry about than his speech impediment. I need him to pay attention, and with you chattering incessantly, my job isn't exactly easy."

"Oh, right. I don't chatter incessantly. And what, now he's some sort of simpleton-"

"No," she spat. "No. Don't you dare even imply that. You don't understand, Link… You weren't there, and you wouldn't understand- I need to know he's at his best, that he's paying attention and ready to win this battle. We've made it this far, and we're so close, and I just- I need him. Safe. I need him to be safe-" The amount of emotion in her words startled me, but the way she almost slapped her hand over her mouth shocked me further. Was that a confession? Had she finally admitted what I'd observed for so long? "Don't you give me that look, Link. I know what you're thinking, and it's not-"

"Not what? Psychic, are we?" I mocked her with her own words, all the while staring at her pointedly, feeling as if my gaze alone could make her bend to my will. "I know you're trying to protect him. I do understand, to a degree. But I know he can handle it. Don't paint him as some kind of, of, I don't know, village idiot. He's capable of multitasking, you know."

Midna bit down on her lip, sucking it beneath her fangs until her eyes melted with worry. Then she grinned a little. "I know he is. Oh, I know he is. But I won't lose him again." And she said it with such conviction that I couldn't help but believe her. Quietly, and with a quick glance at the waiting door and the sky just beyond the parapet: "Zant poisoned Link on my watch. It made him careless and vulnerable and because of that, I lost him. We have to win this fight," she said vehemently. "We have to. For everyone's sake, especially his and mine and yours. For Zelda, and Hyrule, the Twilight Realm. We have to, and I can't let you distract him because I won't lose him again. He is mine."

I wanted to say, _awww_, but thought better of it, since I liked my face the way it was. No need to have one of her fangs embedded in my nose. "Then after the fight, he's _mine_, and we're gonna fix that stutter and you'll live happily ever after-" I also wanted to comment further, but there was a huge explosion outside, which sent us running towards the source of the noise, now accompanied by a high-pitched whistle. As we skidded around the corner, I realised that I'd escaped being punched or slapped by her ponytail. Today was really turning into a good day, as long as Link was the one whistling and he hadn't managed to mortally wound himself. And given his reputation, I wouldn't bet anything.


	41. broken heartbeats sound like breakbeats

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Broken Heartbeats Sound like Breakbeats by Los Campesinos!

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

By the time we got to him, he was very easily polishing off the last of a group of soldiers. The final man fell heavily to his knees and onto his face after a jab to the back of the head from Link's hilt, and I solidified beside him, making some offhand remark about his need to show off.

"Couldn't finish it without an audience, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm… I'm…" Now he looked shaken, and I almost regretted saying anything to him.

"Talk slower."

"I'm… I-I'm-m n-not you-you," he finally stammered with a cheeky grin. He jammed his sword back into its sheath with a flourish and skipped off to raid the guard station. The landing here diverged to wrap around the main tower, ending at a third storey landing and a simple wooden door, and to a guard station to the right. I headed first for the door, but changed direction when Link whistled again, waving at me as he gleefully kicked over a stack of crates, spilling hay and a cache of oil and arrows all over the causeway.

I narrowed my eyes at him. _Maybe it's just true what they say, that no good deed goes unpunished. _"When I'm trying to help you, it's kind of disheartening to hear you say such things. You're hurting my feelings, Link," I whined at him in a mock-Midna tone. She boxed my ears ("Do shut up.") and he attempted to copy her, until I went transient on him and upset his balance as his hand suddenly moved through thin air. Despite stumbling noticeably, he caught himself and straightened indignantly.

"Ch-ch-ch… chea-eater-ter."

"You're just jealous." Grinning, I stooped to collect some arrows for my quiver, meticulously transforming each one until I had an arsenal of twilit shafts. I also hefted a bottle of oil from the pile at the same time Link discovered a chest in the corner, smashed it with some crazy sword move, and victoriously collected a big, wrought iron key. "And look at that," I drawled, unplugging the bottle and getting enough of a whiff of the contents to make my eyes tear. Capping it unceremoniously and tossing it into the ruined chest, I levitated the key out of his hands and spun it around in midair. "We're practically finished here. C'mon, I bet we can-"

_ZING_.

"WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?" Wide-eyed, I surveyed the still-burning arrow that had passed through me and landed on the stones just a few strides away. Thank the goddesses for transience. Link, sheltered by the guards' alcove, scanned the area, mouth firmly shut, until he spotted the archer several storeys up in the auxiliary north tower. He had an arrow nocked and ready to go when Midna roared at me, "THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN," and the first of a small army of Lizalfos rushed onto the causeway from a previously undetected service entrance a storey down. I'd scrambled backwards into the alcove, already having fired off two arrows to take out the archer and the first of the Lizalfos, opened my mouth to shout something in reply-

An explosion rocked the causeway, the Lizalfos shrieked in pain, and I felt hopelessly confused. The clear trumpeting of a shell horn sounded from the garden below us; we both dashed over to the rampart and ogled stupidly at the small mob assembled there, minus the torches and pitchforks. Link had half-hurled himself over the parapet to wave at them, and as much as I wanted to join in, I couldn't help feel like I'd ruin something important in doing so. But all of that went out the window as soon as I saw, seated on a royal white steed down below us, Ralis and a horde of Zora warriors, because the freaking cavalry had finally arrived. Now wasn't the time for misgivings. Now was the time to draw a giant arrow on a sign and point them in the direction of the main entrance. Maybe it was a good sign they'd made it into the inner courtyard below – maybe they'd already taken care of the soldiers.

Ralis had this strange look on his face, like he was still piecing everything together, and because of it, I materialised on the parapet. At our feet, Midna was threatening us, but my former captor jerked his head awkwardly: he had been staring, transfixed, at Link – and for a split second he looked terribly confused at my sudden appearance. Then he cheered and saluted and succeeded in looking very unroyal.

"LINK!" he shouted back from the middle of his column of Zora warriors. "Both Links? Link! It's good to see you're back with us!" Link nodded, grinning that wolfish grin of his. Ralis looked like he'd just managed to swallow an _I told you so_. He'd opened his mouth to say something else, but I'd replied that I'd explain everything later, and thanks for the pardon. He said something else, but by then another company of men rounded the corner of the graveyard and rushed the Zoras, thankfully diverting their attention. Link and I seized the opportunity to escape and nearly bowled each other over in our haste to reach the last door to the upper floors of the highest tower. This was it. _And thank the goddesses. If you can hear me Zelda, hang in there. We're on our way up_.

_Explain everything later, huh?_ his eyes said. I just smirked at him as I blew open the door with a well-placed twilit arrow. Din, but I'd never get tired of the explosion those things caused. The colours were absolutely fantastic. From beneath our feet, Midna did what looked like a happy dance. I wasted no time in pointing this out. "I don't hear any music, Link, do you?"

"Oh shut up," she grouched. Then, materialising between us, she pulled us both in close until our faces touched hers. "We're almost done, boys. We're almost through, and this nightmare finished."

Link took off his hat and waved it around until she finally released us. He knocked the flimsy door off its hinges on his way in, but as he stepped over the threshold, I felt a strange quivering in the bottom of my stomach that I was positive Midna felt as well. And against my better instinct, I ignored the feeling, because that feeling of invincibility and hope and confidence was surging through each of us, and I loved it. This was going to be great, right? This was the last stretch. The final sprint. We had this in the bag, practically.

"Stop daydreaming," Midna growled into my ear. "We've got a princess to save."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." When I finally ventured into the dark room, I immediately noticed how it was populated by several gesturing ghosts. I stared at the tattered bunch. "Who are they?"

"Soldiers, probably." Link had transformed into a wolf since he couldn't handle being left out of the observation party. "Dead soldiers. Probably the ones who were with Zelda when the castle fell. See the green outlines? They succumbed to the twilight."

"I gathered as much." Ignoring me, Midna settled onto Link's back as he set off across the tiles, deftly manoeuvring between the sections of nothing. I forwent the exciting leapfrog and simply floated over to the next door, which only incited a dirty look from Link as soon as he returned to his usual form. I wished I had a rupee for every time anyone gave me that look. I'd be rich by now without all the violence of heroism.

The next door led us onto the bottom landing of a staircase that spiralled away in useless chunks into darkness. What sounded like organ music filtered through the walls, loud and played in some flat, minor key, on some broken instrument. Whoever was playing really sucked. When I opened my mouth to comment, Midna just shook her head, and I recognised the sudden dimming of Zelda's presence. She'd been weak before, but now, I could hardly sense her at all, and nothing in the form of reassurance was forthcoming this time.

Panicked, I demanded loudly, "Where'd she go?" Link shrugged, but he couldn't hide the look of vague dismay in his eyes. "Where is she?" _Zelda? Zelda, where are you?_

Midna shook her head again, almost sadly. "Calm down. We're closing in on them. You'll see her soon enough for yourself."

I had to wait for him to navigate the shattered staircases, the meantime providing a perfect opportunity to ponder this. Then her glow vanished completely. Gasping quietly, I stood still long enough to try and reach out to her, but to no avail. Maybe she'd withdrawn into herself. Was Ganondorf hurting her? A surge of anger passed through me. The sudden loss of her gentle encouragement left me feeling naked and exposed. Vulnerable, like Link had been to Zant's poison. _Aw, goddesses_.

_For goddesses' sakes, now isn't the time to get sentimental, Link_, snapped my conscience.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. All I ever did was get sentimental these days. Midna had such a terrible effect on people. Link too, since he was kind of sentimental. Sometimes.

As soon as he grasped the bottom step on the last section of staircase that topped out in the landing, I drifted closer to the door and found myself face-to-face with two more Lizalfos. They appeared suddenly and died in the next instant with two bursts of crackling blue-green energy. Midna appeared at my shoulder with an almost-impressed expression.

"Don't you look smug."

"That was nice," she complimented. I let my mouth drop open in pretend surprise. Hastily, she continued, "I'm sure it's only the result of emotional energy. You do, after all, seem pretty upset over Zelda's retreat."

I smirked at her. "I've got a thing for princesses."

Link punched my shoulder as he passed by to conquer the next flight; Midna matched my smirk. "Not this one."

"Real witty. I'm dying."

"You will be in another minute if you don't catch up with him."

I was going to say that Link couldn't possibly attract trouble in a span of five seconds, but I realized the error in that thought. It was Link. He could do anything in a matter of five seconds. With him, you couldn't leave anything to chance. So I met him at the next landing, miraculously intact from whatever devastating battle had rocked the area and destroyed practically _everything_, and watched as he used several sword moves I'd never seen before to take down another pair of monsters. When he sheathed his sword to clap the lizard blood from his hands, I clapped with him.

"Bravo, Sir Link, First Class Knight of the Realm."

"F-first-irst C-class Sh-shad-d-dow," he replied.

"Hilarious. You two are killing me."

As he ascended the next area with the aid of a spinner, I took out the anger I'd been suppressing since my time in the Arbiter's Grounds by blowing up the spiked bits attached to the walls on either side that might have impeded his movement. It also hit me, just as I was winding up to toss my next glowing ball of fury, that we were actually nearing the end of this insane journey.

We were almost done.

And it had definitely crossed my mind before – millions of times, and recently too – but this, floating here and aiming concentrated blasts of energy at concrete objects, powers that I would've never dreamt of possessing before this madness, this cemented it for me. We had one more battle to get through, and it would be done. Over with. Completely through. One man stood between us and a happy ending, between Midna and Link ceasing to worry constantly about each other, between my long-anticipated meeting with Zelda, between my possible return and welcome home, between the restoration of two war-torn worlds.

This was huge.

I felt like a complete idiot for not realising the _gravity_ of the situation and everything at stake here, that this wasn't just some tiny little personal dispute. Lives were at stake – and not just strangers' lives, but my friends': Link and Midna and Zelda. And at the moment, I'd have gladly given anything to ensure their safety – no hesitation. They were more than friends, as I'd found out in the desert. We were essentially family. We'd survived too much together to be anything but family, and I knew that, when we beat the hell out of Ganondorf and set the nails into his coffin, we'd find someplace and work things out, and everything would be okay. Everything would be normal. Everything would be all right, like Link had told me. It had to be, because that was what I was fighting for. I was fighting for that hope, that chance, at something new and pure and wonderful, a kind of renewal of my life, and there was no way in hell I'd give it up without dying for it first.

The sharp _shhhick_ of Link's sword dancing out of its sheath at the last possible second brought me back around to the matter at hand. As soon as I looked in his direction, I saw the enormous lock on the door, the one that imprisoned the princess in the highest room of the highest tower, indicating that we'd reached our destination and things were undeniably happening. Link struck the armoured knight first, and a delayed second or two later, I supplemented the attack with a powerful blast of shadow energy. I had no idea what I was channelling, but it felt brilliant. Midna tossed in a black-orange disk of her own, prompting me to make a mental note to ask from where I was getting this ammunition. For now, I wouldn't burst my bubble of invincibility. If this was emotional energy, then by all means let me harness my inner rage and let adolescent rebellion achieve its fullest potential.

"Go!" I shouted at him. He swept low and I came in hard at the knight's helmet, bashing my fist through the beaver, effectively busting it off its hinges and revealing a grinning skull beneath. This time he took a swing at the neck, and Midna and I aimed a joint effort at the knight's midriff; with an enormous racket, all but the chain mail clattered to the floor, leaving the unburdened zombie for Link.

Midna hovered by my shoulder, her hand near my neck. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. We haven't killed him yet. Besides-" Awkwardly, I looked her in the eye just as Link delivered the final blow to the knight. "I think I should be thanking you, for everything you've done for me. You could have killed me in the Field, but you didn't."

I heard her laugh lightly. "Zelda told me not to. Downright refused, and then after I'd – after I'd left you there, she demanded I go back and find you. She said she had a funny feeling about you, and she put up a hell of a fight trying to convince me."

"She knows quality when she sees it," I grinned. Link stepped up and clapped me on my other shoulder, and I suddenly felt more alive and connected than I ever had before in my entire life. "Both of you. Thanks. I mean it. Completely, without any hint of sarcasm."

Shaking his head, he patted my arm. "Y-you're-you're acting-ing l-like we're-we're-we're… we'll-we'll n-never-er s-see each-each other-er-er… a-again-gain." I didn't want to ruin the moment with any sort of negative thoughts, so I just laughed it off. We could do this. We would do this. The last door stood before us, and behind it, the man who was responsible for countless years of misery.

"Let's do this," I murmured.

Midna giggled, but she sounded like she was choking. "For Zelda."

"F-for-for Hy-Hyrule-rule."

"For us."

And with that, the lock hit the floor with an almighty clang, and the last door rattled open.


	42. light up the sky

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Light Up the Sky by Yellowcard.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Well, we found Zelda.

Midna dramatically threw back her arms beside me, screeching at Ganondorf with the same temper she'd used against Zant, "I will risk everything to deny you!"

He laughed that stupid horrible laugh that made my skin crawl. "Shadow has been moved by light, it seems… Indeed, we have a dear shadow in attendance." His eyes found me. I felt cold sweat and a light, glazing anger, break out over my skin, until he finally looked away to Link. It was only when he switched his gaze that the burning guilt and desire for vengeance ripping through my veins finally animate my limbs.

"Bastard." Those empty amber eyes found me again, freezing my blood in an instant. He'd only waved a hand dismissively, but that had sufficiently arrested the arrow already released from my bow, my fingers just within grasp of the still-quivering string – the arrow clattered uselessly to the tile floor. I should have known that I wouldn't get very far in such an idiotic attack. Should have, but I wasn't exactly known for my overly logical methods when it came to conflict resolution. The giant of a man looked so damn calm standing there before the throne and the crumbling sculpture of the goddesses behind it; his cloak draped his shoulders in an elegant black that shimmered blood red under the torchlight, and the hilt and sheath of his sword sparkled with a distinct malice I had no intention of experiencing voluntarily. Elaborately decorated armour covered every single spot I wanted to smash my sword into. I wanted to retaliate directly against him, rather than the steadily brewing fear numbing rational thought.

"How amusing."

He was blatantly ignoring me, the arrogant bastard. He even set me down again, _gently_, lip curled in contempt, attention redirected. If there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was being mocked, and this guy had it down pat. Link watched quietly, tense and alert, listening unperturbed as Ganondorf broke into the traditionally long and self-indulgent rant I expected from narcissistic men in power- _What's that?_ Out of the corner of my eye I caught the telltale glimmer of twilight, except the only time I'd seen it rising out of the floor like that had been in the Twilight Realm. This was alarming for two reasons: first, the pieces were rising steadily from around and beneath the throne, directly behind which Zelda dangled lifelessly, placing her in the line of fire. Instinctively I knew that those pieces shouldn't at any point make contact with her because twilight in Ganondorf's hands tended to have bad side effects, so on that feeling alone I should've rushed done something heroic. But the second reason was what formed the basis of my first-ever warping adventure that put me firmly between her and the rapidly approaching twilight: upon throwing out my arms and shielding her, I recognised something beyond duty. This was genuine fear and despair and a passionate fury I'd only ever seen in Midna. Astounding revelation, really. But as usual, now wasn't the time. Seconds later, Midna joined me, even as Link reached out to hold her back. Ganondorf had ended his fiery speech by bellowing, "Deny me then!"

The childish thing to do would've been to shout, "FINE, YOU BIG BULLY." I would've been okay with that too, except that the stream of twilight – tainted twilight, I realised belatedly – passed through both of us without consequence and mercilessly dissolved into the princess. I whirled round, horror-stricken at the faint blue patterns twirling around her translucent skin; when Midna raised a hand against her, I angrily deflected the blow. "You can't! Don't touch her!"

"LINK!" She backed up, eyes wide, then furious, but I refused to budge, even grasping this stranger roughly by the shoulders to try and shake the twilight out of her. "Link, move!"

"No!"

"Link!"

But I couldn't stop shaking her. I kept shaking her and yelling at her, until her eyes suddenly snapped open, golden orbs that I didn't recall ever seeing. I didn't ever want to see them either, since they were so hate-filled and cold and not right I suffered a flashback to a grimy dungeon and that goddesses-awful magic and actually _flinched_. Behind me, I heard Midna shriek in surprise as some unseen force propelled her back, into the marble frieze on the entryway opposite, sending her crashing bodily into the sweeping staircase directly below. Link immediately rushed for her and shouted something but I tuned them out completely. Zelda's gaze held me. _Farore, give me strength_.

"Hello, Shadow," Ganondorf's voice said, and I choked. I had no idea what I'd anticipated as her first words, but those certainly were not it, and as a result, the terror evaporated, replaced by outrage on par with any true Twili's. Before I even had a chance to react physically, however, the puppet had sent me skidding into the threadbare carpet lining the path to the throne, where I tumbled the length of it until a very solid, very painful magical barrier absorbed my momentum. Above, the puppet hovered, taunting, drifting side to side to draw my attention. The second I drew my sword, it lit with a brilliant blue-green, shining with the glitter of two sols and a complete loss of control. If he wanted to play, I'd damn well play. Draggy took care of floating above me, waving about a sword I recognised from some hazy memory of Zelda's. Then he abruptly threw a ball of lightning, and automatically, I deflected it right back at him with my sword for lack of a shield. Zelda shuddered spectacularly.

Somewhere in the background, Link shouted something again, but he was stuck on the other side of the barrier with Midna. Just knowing this gave me an extra dose of courage – they were safe behind that barrier, so it was only my neck on the line. And Zelda's. But I held onto my firm belief that the puppet wasn't really Zelda, for both of our benefits. She was too important a player for Ganondorf to destroy now, without the Triforce of Wisdom on the table. Right?

"Is the Hero's Shadow afraid?" leered the puppet. "Has he no courage?"

"The hell I haven't!" I dove out of the way of a mockery of a floating, glowing Triforce that seared anything within its perimeter, but not soon enough. The current set my head reeling and forced me to the ground, a moment of which Draggy took advantage. He came in close, grasping my collar and leaning in to whisper, "Will the Shadow call a truce? Will the Shadow surrender to his god?"

I spat at him. With incredible force and a second, agonisingly familiar current, he sent me skittering across the carpet, right into the barrier a second time, behind which Link was cradling Midna. He caught my eye and nodded at me, and in an attempt to imitate his strength, I staggered back to my feet and rose back to Draggy's level. I couldn't lose it now, not with Zelda virtually staring at me from the other side of her own throne room. Possession aside, that figure, that brittle-looking girl with the smooth skin and golden-brown braids and foreign eyes – _that_ was Zelda. I would not abandon her now, especially when I sensed a consistently stronger flicker with every blow I landed against the puppet. We would take him down together, inside and out, simultaneously. The perfect assault.

His grin made my stomach turn over itself, the way it distorted her face. "Cross your heart," he leered again. All the man did was freaking leer. "And hope to die!"

"What are you," I snapped back at him, deftly reflecting his lightning ball, "five? Get a grip, Farore, Nayru, and _Din_."

Letting out an ugly shriek, he dove at me with the sword outstretched, but I just switched to transient mode and Zelda passed right through. The sword didn't. His successful hit inspired him to laugh loudly with that disturbing cackle of his, and dive a second time. This time, I knocked the sword from his hand, growling.

"Clever, Shadow." He collected it without moving from his spot directly across from me, hovering and staring obnoxiously. Then he blinked, and I knew he was going to charge up again. That stupid bastard really thought he had me. Link and Midna were calling, but I couldn't decipher their words from here and I didn't want to. The tip of the sword gleamed with a brilliant flash – and I returned fire, charging the attack with my own energy, sending Zelda's body crashing to the floor amidst a blue-green haze. Draggy reached one hand towards me-

Ribbons of twilight rushed by again, this time pure and controlled as Midna drained the foul presence from Zelda's form. With a graceless landing, I joined Link on the ground beside the throne, forced onto one knee and trying to catch my breath. The barrier had dissolved with the defeat of the puppet. He clapped me on the shoulder and offered a hand up, which I gladly took with my free hand; my other hand was a bit occupied in holding my side together. Sometimes I really wished I had better powers of perception, specifically when a "Oh, he just grazed me with that incredibly sharp thing called a sword" was really a "Holy shit he stabbed me." Almost as if nothing terrible had happened, Zelda rested quietly, eyes shut but sitting upright in the throne, looking only a tiny bit less lifeless thanks to a restored life-force, if Midna's exhausted expression had anything to do with it. Coincidentally, I felt that wonderfully warm glow return, albeit considerably altered somehow from its previous state.

'_Thank you_,' she whispered, but rather than internal, it sounded as if she'd spoken right into my ear, right then and there. I couldn't very well say, "Oh, you're welcome," though, so I just ignored her. Right now, my first priority was surviving the immediate future – already the cloud of pain and shock had begun to crowd the front of my brain. Beside me, Link grabbed my arm again for support while Midna rejoined us, and together, we turned and watched in horror as the collection of twilit pieces came back together in some gigantic, glowing mass. He _would_ reform into a gigantic, glowing mass. He _would_ be a super-powerful pig. What the hell.

Link shoved me behind him, muttering with that predatory grin of his, "He-he's-he's m-mine."

Taking my cue, I stumbled drunkenly into the short steps leading to the throne itself, sprawling at Zelda's feet until Midna flitted within reach. Behind us I could just make out the jumbled sounds of the roaring and squealing of a massive boar. A star-like palm pressed against my hands, attempting to help staunch the blood. "Din," I gasped, "stop bleeding already. You're staining my favourite tunic." But it wouldn't stop bleeding and Midna didn't laugh nervously like I'd wanted. The edges of the wound shone with an awful kind of green-white glow – the same glow, I realized with a surreal kind of horror, as Ganondorf's chest wound. _That's just brilliant. We're twins now_. She shifted around anxiously, clumsily, until she could see my face.

"All right?"

_If I'm clutching my side with bloody fingers, there's a good chance that no, I'm not all right._ "N-no." I felt like my eyes were huge and unseeing and water and overstimulated, all at the same time. It made me sick to my stomach. "It won't stop. Not even a little." Her head jerked in Link's direction at his cry of surprise and she looked torn until I shook my head and gulped, "I won't walk into the light just yet. Gotta see Link kill that bastard." With a gentle rebuke, she disappeared. I vaguely remembered a fairy somewhere in my belt pockets; with diminishing magic, I levitated the bottle into trembling, sweaty hands and watched with grey disbelief as the little fairy only managed to remove a fraction of the angry glow. Granted, the bleeding did slow a little afterwards, but it felt like my side had a cramp, a really bad cramp that made it seem like he was stabbing me all over again with sadistic slowness. Brilliant. _I think I liked it better without the damn fairy_. The twilight hummed in my veins, conjuring up a solid warmth in the centre of my chest and the back of my head. Maybe it was just ridiculously warm in here. I couldn't dissolve anymore so I crawled up the stairs to the base of the throne, leaning against one of the legs with my sword gripped by nerveless fingers. On the floor, Link had cornered the boar and was slashing at it with furious intensity.

As I watched with growing anxiety, the boar seized the upper hand and sent Link flying again, then proceeded to demolish half the room and send huge chunks of stone in Zelda's direction. Like any dutiful little citizen, I shielded her from the storm of projectiles and spoke quietly, more for my own benefit than for her sake, because I knew that if I shut my mouth now I probably wouldn't ever open it again. Just to complicate things further, I had my own storm of buzzing dots to confront aside from the actions of the ensuing battle. Why did my hands feel like they were melting? Farore, Nayru, and _Din_.

"We're almost out of here, Zel. Link's got this. Link's got him."

I felt dizzy and blanked for a second, my head almost against her knees. It was against her knees. My body weight almost pushed her sideways out of her seat, pressing her into the arm of the chair. I reached up to hold her hand before I realised what I was doing. Link's sword glistened with deadly grace above the jagged sword wound.

And then that bastard was burning in an ethereal green fire. And I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Looking up with enough speed to crick my neck, I met the clear-eyed gaze of Princess Zelda with what had to be my worst slack-jawed expression ever witnessed by another living creature. Her eyes were a familiar blue-gold, just as calm as in the sky garden, but with a brighter joy, and a darker wariness.

Midna materialised in an instant, words ready, but Zelda smiled and I felt myself move aside to let her step forward, without ever consciously moving. "Say nothing, Midna. Your heart and mine were as one…" A tiny, sad smile touched her lips, and the hand she held to my shoulder slipped away. "Such suffering you have endured, all of you." Midna's face turned immediately to the floor, panic evident in her expression, even when Link brushed her fingers with his rough gauntlets. Some garbled response had almost escaped his tongue when I pointed silently at the foot of the stairs and the centre of the room, eyes wide with shock.

"You have got to be kidding me."

The Fused Shadows reappeared abruptly. Then, so quietly that I almost didn't hear: "You promised." My mind flickered with brief confusion – promise… the promise, way back in the Twilight Palace. _Oh, Farore give me strength_. Painfully, I nodded. She could do this. I had no choice. And with Link still in the midst of reaching for Midna, trying to stop her like I wanted to, we dematerialised.

x

"Link!"

From what I could remember, I'd never had a good day when it started with "Link!" being shouted in my ear, and someone jostling me awake. I didn't even remember falling asleep, which definitely presented an ominous sort of vibe.

"Link, wake up!"

Groaning, I rolled over and raised my head a little, only to let it fall back to the soggy, grassy ground. "Leave me alone."

"LINK!" Princess Zelda had just screamed at me. What the hell was happening?

"M-Midna!" That was Link. I sat up with Zelda's supporting arm and managed to shakily get to my feet without letting the vertigo get the best of me. For now. I felt so drained and sick that I almost collapsed again to my knees. Zelda jerked my shoulder fretfully. Somewhere, I heard a reverberating crunch; I focused my eyes in time to see the remnants of Midna's headdress crumbling to the ground, and the breath left my lungs.

She couldn't be. There- She wasn't. Oh Farore, I left her there to _die_.

My grip tightened on Zelda's hand, and her face, still horror-stricken, moved mechanically to meet my equally-horrified gaze. Link had moved in front of her with his hand on his sword, a vacant look in his eyes. _She can't be_.

Ganon's horse reared up and Zelda raised her free hand to her chest, bowing her head and whispering quietly. When she began emitting a harsh white light, I painfully shook myself free of her and staggered backwards, once more falling over and needing a hand for support that wasn't there. It wasn't just my hands now, either – _I_ felt like I was melting, and it was the worst sensation in the world. Link looked alarmed at the proximity of Ganon's front line of horsemen, but Zelda kept on muttering. Unable to maintain a solid form, I drifted in front of them and threw out my arms as defiantly as I could manage in my state, suddenly driven by a reckless, desperate anguish as Midna's loss hit me.

She couldn't be dead – but I sure as hell wouldn't give in to him if she was. I hadn't promised her a failure. Just as Ganon's line was about to draw even, Link and Zelda vanished again. Just as his blade found me again, I thought, "I hope Link knows not to get hit by this goddesses-damned thing," before feeling myself, my twilit essence, already stretched thin into a protective barrier and weak from the previous battle – disperse.

_Goodnight, Shadow._


	43. rouse your bones

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them. Title: Rouse Your Bones by Broadcast 2000.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Link and I were sitting on the edge of a grassy knoll, staring out at the sunset-coated expanse of a free land. I knew I felt good, thinking it. I liked saying it, too: free. We were free. Leaning back onto my hands and eventually lying flat on my back, I coughed loudly into the comfortable silence he'd initiated. I had been sleeping when he'd shaken me awake and insisted I join him in dashing off to some out-of-the-way place where Midna wouldn't look for us. Two days had passed since the battle – since I'd woken to Zelda's soft hands, whispered words, and fearful glances; and since I'd stumbled around looking for Link, who'd already been fixed up for the most part by a convenient fairy or two. Midna, of course, normally refused to let him out of her sight, but the necessity of a royal meeting forced us commoners to leave temporarily. In my opinion they were hiding something, and playing the power card to hide it.

"So what's on the docket?" I asked quietly, not really expecting an answer. He rustled in the grass and I stretched my shoulders. Zelda would be having tea or something equally ridiculous with Midna as they chatted gaily about whatever it was they were chatting. I could picture their heads bowed together now, Midna's flame-red and Zelda's golden-brown, each crowned with simple jewels.

He grunted. "P-planning-ning s-some-something-ing."

"Tell me something I don't know. Ideas?"

Half-shrug, meant that he knew but wouldn't share. Then he nodded slightly, grunted again, and sighed. "You're-you're g-going with-with-with… h-her."

Confused, I stared at him for a second. We both knew I had to go with Midna – but only for the time being. After the battle, Zelda had confirmed that I'd been struck with the Sword of the Sages, and without the protection of a Triforce piece, I would die – unless I agreed to trust the Twili medics, and that meant going back to the Twilight Realm. I knew I was messed up badly, because I had trouble moving around in direct sunlight and dissolving into shadows. It was like being purged of the twilight that had taken hold in my blood, but with nothing being left in its place. Link knew this; Midna and Zelda knew it too, and we'd all decided I had to go with Midna to get help. But we'd all also decided that it would be temporary, since, although I could withstand a longer exposure to twilight than Link ever could, I couldn't stay there forever, even if I managed to reconcile with the twilight. I just wanted to pursue some semblance of a normal life again, but that wasn't exactly a possibility.

"We both know I have to," I replied slowly. "It's not exactly by choice."

But he just shook his head and closed his eyes, moving so that he, too, lie flat on his back. His mouth opened and shut. Voices floated to us from the camp, sounds of an argument and Zelda's calm negotiations. I figured at some point someone would notice the castle had blown up, their princess was nowhere to be found, and there were dead horses and bloody, torn up grass just outside the city. At the very least, the city should have rebelled against the standing troops rallied by Ganondorf, unless the Zoras had managed to subdue them all. I found that very hard to believe, although it was possible that everyone simply threw down their weapons as soon as the castle blew. But no sounds or riders from the city came anywhere near our campsite. Granted, Link had been the one to scout and pitch the site, but I still expected some sort of word about the apparent victory. About anything.

I sat up and glanced at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry. But it won't be for long. You know I'm coming back – hell, you know I can't stand living with Midna for very long."

That got a vague smile out of him, even a nod. Didn't make me feel any less guilty. I'd just opened my mouth to speak again, to fill this stuffy silence, when someone's hand crept out of nowhere and grasped my shoulder. I started violently, almost drawing a bow that wasn't there. Midna just snickered, flopping very unroyally onto the grass, her sarong spread out around her.

"Someone's jumpy."

"Last I checked, after being attacked with a glowing triangle, a possessed princess, and a line of crazy horsemen, I have a right to be jumpy." I tilted my head at her. She'd put her other hand on Link's shoulder and he'd looked away, but her grin just stretched over unfamiliar fangs. They had shortened considerably from her imp form, just as her face had elongated and her hair had grown out, tamed. She really was beautiful, but so was Zelda.

"Don't patronise them, Midna," she murmured, amused. "We have a long night ahead of us."

"What's going on?"

Her expression shifted into one of discomfort. "We move to the desert. We can wait no longer."

Link stood up, arms crossed in front of him, and stared directly at Zelda. "Plan?"

"Link, we've gone over this already." Midna this time. I stood too, looking between them and feeling utterly helpless. Another row was blooming – I knew it, could feel it, and could do nothing about it. Zelda slipped her hand into mine and guided me towards camp, away from the pair who'd stepped nose-to-nose for a broken verbal exchange.

"Link, please. We should break camp." I shook my head dumbly. Link was trying desperately to speak, but he couldn't get the words out without stumbling pitifully. All the progress we'd made in the castle seemed to have vanished. I felt angry for him, especially when he finally just shut his mouth and started signing clumsily at her. "Link! Link, help me pack. Please. Come on-"

Tugging at my arm, she forced me to follow her back to the fireside, where a makeshift tent had been pitched in the brush, and a makeshift dinner had been put on the coals. Zelda sighed deeply after she pulled me firmly into the heart of the camp, but she didn't reach for the dirty canvas strung between two trees. Instead, she faced me and held my hands. I wasn't expecting this, and still being flinchy, stepped away from her with a violent wince. Despite the reaction she found my cold fingers and squeezed earnestly.

"It will be all right. I promise." Her eyes shone in the flickering firelight. "They will be all right, but first we must get you well again, and the only way to do that is for you to accompany Midna back to the Twilight Realm. This is not a punishment; you should not feel guilty."

"Doesn't change the fact," I snapped. "Look what it's doing to us, this stupid decision. This is my fault-" _...because I saved you._ Zelda immediately broke eye contact, biting her lips. Whatever psychic bond we'd shared had vanished completely since her divorce from Midna, so I'd regained my freedom of thought. Fantastic. Except I failed miserably at trying to read her sad expression, and instead of doing or saying something helpful, I just watched as she sighed heavily, gathering the words to reply. She looked so much like a battered doll then, with her hair mussed from travel, and the bruises and burns acquired from the puppet match. When Midna accidentally told me, I was devastated over being responsible for hurting her, to which she'd only smiled faintly and pointed out that she was alive and free, and what she had received physically was a pittance compared to us. Little comfort, but I'd take it. Now, she pressed a soft finger against my lips.

"No-" Zelda dipped her head sadly, hands moving to smooth out my collar but the dried blood and grime held firm and she grinned in exasperation. "No, it is not your fault, nor anyone else's but Ganon's. He created this terror, and you and Link and Midna, you were forced to overcome it. While you may not die immediately, it is my personal request that you accompany Midna and receive appropriate treatment ." I made to protest, but she pressed more fingers to my lips and shook her head. "Please."

"Don't 'please' me, Zelda. I feel like shit because of what's happening, and I don't just mean the attack. They're arguing, and it's bad enough because Link can't talk – and now, after finally fighting our way through and getting here, to the point where we're actually free, he's being told that plans have been made and, 'Oops, sorry! Guess it's time to pack up and go home!'"

"You know that's not what I mean!" Oooh, angry princess. Her nostrils were flaring and her eyes were narrowed; she actually looked kind of dangerous. "Countless things must be repaired now- How did you imagine the aftermath?"

I grabbed a fistful of canvas and tore it down, violently folding it into messy quarters. I had to hand it to her, she was right. At no point did I ever really seriously consider anything political – call me naïve, but I'd expected Zelda to waltz into the castle and take control from people only too happy to have her back. I'd anticipated grand discharge from duty so Link and I could go off and do whatever the hell we wanted. I'd always just assumed that Midna wouldn't leave, let alone take me with her. That goddesses-damned Sword of Sages changed everything. "I am not arguing this. Not now. You're right: I fought all this way, but for what? This? I'm getting shipped off to somewhere I never wanted to see again, where I'm less than welcome-"

"Link you know you're welcome. You always will be, in the Twilight Palace, _and_ Hyrule Castle, if I'm not mistaken," Midna suddenly interjected. She took the tent from me and tossed her head at the smoking remains of dinner. "Someone stopped watching it, so it looks like we're on our own for the night."

Disgruntled, I moved to stomp out the ashes. The drawings Link and I had made in the dirt the other night were still there, until I scratched them out with a scuffed toe. We'd reconstructed stories for each other while on sentry duty – while I was on sentry duty, and Link the insomniac joined me. This was so stupid. All of this. I didn't want to go, he didn't want me to go, she didn't want to take me, and Zelda wanted me with her, where I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be anyway. And as I helped them take things down and pack up, I realised all I wanted was what I couldn't ever have again, and that was my brother. When would I grow up? I wanted to go home and see him again, to be able to look him in the eye and tell him that it was over, that I was home for good and that I was sorry for any pain I ever caused him, but almost every single part of me knew, agonisingly, that I could never settle down again in Ordon, appearance and actions aside. I really was sorry for what I did to Ren, but not for what I'd become. The imminent split of our team, our group, our little trio that had faced entirely too much together – that just brought my spirits down even more, to the point where I stopped responding to the argument. Me, Mr. Mouth, not verbalising. I could see how Link felt now, minus the stutter. There just wasn't any way to express this grief. We'd beaten Ganondorf, but lo and behold, the hard part was yet to come.

Midna brushed my shoulder, and, predictably, I nearly jumped out of my skin. "It's okay. We'll get you fixed up, and Link can play diplomat. It'll work out." But her voice trembled, and I thought back to what Link had told me and my own instincts, that they were planning something, these two princesses, the lone survivors of a violent coup. For Nayru's sake, all I wanted to do was run around Hyrule without a sword strapped to my back.

"Where did Link go?" My voice betrayed nothing, and indeed I felt like stone. Zelda ignored me and instead drifted out to collect a stray wineskin from where Arden had been tethered.

"To find Epona," Midna replied offhandedly. "But do me a favour and round him up. We've got to get going at some point or we'll never get there before sunrise." _Since you can't travel during the daytime_, rang the unspoken sentiment. I turned on my heel and strode for the top of the rise, suddenly very irritated that I couldn't float my way over and shout Link's name in my usual high-energy way. I wanted to go back to our pre-battle selves. I liked them better.

"Link, Midna's in bossy-princess mode and says we're leaving. Now," I called to the velvety darkness. I could see him standing a decent sprint to my left, his face pressed into Epona's neck, Arden's reins clutched loosely in his hand. From what I understood, the mare was on her last legs after what they'd described as an epic battle. Link would be leaving her here and adopting Arden instead for the time being. Creeping up quietly beside him, I reached out and patted his shoulder. Without directly acknowledging my presence, he climbed into the saddle and deftly put a blind hand out before taking off. I grasped his forearm and swung onto the saddle behind him. He leaned back slightly, just so that he could see my face.

"D-don't b-blame-ame-ame y-you-you."

"I do."

"I kn-know."

I couldn't reply to that, so I kept quiet as we neared the girls. Zelda waited quietly beside my pack and saddlebags, all neatly arranged at her feet. Link slid off the horse and joined Midna. She immediately raised a hand and shut her eyes to warp, but I demanded sharply, "Why can't we all just warp?"

She opened one eye blankly. "You're too weak. Besides, there's something we need to do. We'll be back."

"I feel fine," I bit back at her weakly, reining Arden around and pulling Zelda into the saddle behind me. She wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, careful to avoid the tender sword wound, but I squirmed uncomfortably anyway. Link's sad look vanished as they disappeared. Sighing angrily, I kicked Arden into a gallop, and over my shoulder, I heard Zelda choke a little on her breath.

x

Staring at her now, I could hardly believe she used to be an imp. I even remembered our first post-battle encounter, after I'd miraculously woken, stumbled ungracefully around the campsite with Zelda hurrying in my wake, and stopped dead in front of Link to ogle the person at his side.

_The ghost of a smirk twitched across her face before she snapped, "Am I so beautiful that even _you_, Mr. Mouth, have no words left?" Tossing her head, she waved a hand – a long-fingered, full-sized hand – and gestured angrily into the air. "Say something; don't just stand there gawking. I've had enough charades for a lifetime."_

_"You're – uh."_

_"Out with it!" Now faced with both of her eyes, each bright sunset and angry but amused, I was reduced to stuttering._

_"Well, uh, it's just, uh-"_

_Zelda rustled nearby and laid a hand on my shoulder. "I told him to sleep longer, but he insisted-"_

_"Obviously," I replied vehemently. "I just woke up in a- You just finished- You're expecting me to- to- Wh-why aren't you an imp?"_

_"Not the words I was looking for." Sans headdress and clothed instead in a simple black sarong and cloak, Midna tossed her nose into the air, muttering, "That figures." Then she turned towards me again, grinning brightly – with tiny, harmless fangs. The next thing I knew, she had me in a tight embrace. "Thank you. You were wonderful."_

_"It wasn't some silly theatrical performance, Midna," I bit back at her, not returning her hug just to play the mock-annoyed part. "You can't go round congratulating people. Next you'll start handing out bouquets-"_

I knew she was ogling me now, while I stood gawking at the whirring Mirror. Zelda held my hand, and Link looked spectacularly heartbroken, though all of us knew this was coming. Midna was strutting around by the stairs into the portal, chattering nervously into the dry desert air.

"You should get rid of that face, Link, it's unbecoming," she snapped at him, waving lamely in his direction. His eyes found her and just blinked slowly. "Oh, Link, don't do that. I'll be… It won't be long. You – Don't give me that face."

Pointing silently at me, he rolled his eyes and almost snarled, _He's going with you, and I'm not. Don't tell me it won't be long._

I held up my hands defensively and Zelda smiled softly but said nothing, because she was always a leg up over everyone else with that stupid Wisdom of hers. Too many things were happening for me to properly process; I still couldn't adjust to physical contact, not even during my last moments with this group in this world for a while. That inability left me feeling disconnected and forlorn. I wanted our companionship back. But instead, I would be partially responsible for breaking what remained of our bonds when Midna and I warped into the Twilight Realm for the reconstruction effort – both of her kingdom and of my health. I felt dirty.

Link's muteness was still ongoing, barring our limited conversation on Arden. And now, he just hung his head as Midna's hug faded away, her steps carrying her to the staircase before the Mirror, her hand held out to me. She looked gloomy as well, with big eyes shimmering with unshed tears. That suspicious twinge I'd felt since I'd woken in the brush came back full force. Why was she crying? On impulse, I turned to Link and squeezed his shoulder.

"Hey, mate, I know you're going back to Ordon for a while," I stammered. I felt clumsy, standing in front of him now and asking him something like this. He stared back at me steadily, almost expectantly. _Definitely not helping things, Link_. "Can you drop in to see how Ren's doing? He-he's my brother; you saw him. He threw me off the balcony, and- I'd just really appreciate it, if you looked after him while I'm in Twilight World with Little Miss Sunshine over there."

His face broke out into a grin abruptly, and, surprised, I stepped away, but he pulled me back in with a hearty back-slapping. "'C-course," was all he said, but he looked calmer than before, like I'd given him a new quest.

Next, I stared for a minute at Zelda before hugging her tightly. "Don't worry, Zel," I told her as cheerfully as I could, "I'll be back in no time to wreak havoc in Castletown."

She gasped in surprise, smiling through obvious tears. "I will look forward to it, Link. Take care of yourself."

Then Midna whistled behind me and I trotted up the steps to her, already feeling less sickly as the gentle twilit breeze washed over me. "So are you ready for another mini-adventure?" She smiled thinly, "Politics will be fun to navigate."

"Oh, yeah, I totally can't wait. I just love endless meetings and hot air."

Smiling again, she clasped my hand in hers and held on tightly. She was saying things. But all I could see was the stricken look on Link's face, and the way he suddenly couldn't move, the way I'd seen that terrible invisible force engulf us before. She wouldn't – There would be no point in lying to us, not now. I twisted in her grip, but she wouldn't budge.

"What are you-"

"See you later," she was saying. Her hand, an iron grip, pulled me up the final steps and into the glare from the Mirror, and I felt myself already disintegrating. Link's eyes had widened, though not in shock, but more like grief. Betrayal. What the hell was she doing? What the hell-

"Hold on tight."

_To what? You've got my hand in a vice! You can't do this!_

And then Zelda turned away, crying, with Link frozen beside her, and Hyrule melting away behind them.


	44. epilogue

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them.

_Notes: As of January 6, 2011, this piece has been edited and revised in its entirety. Some major changes have been made. If you enjoyed this story, please check out the sequel, _Ad Hoc_. Thank you for reading :)_

* * *

Midna hit the ground hard in the courtyard; I tumbled into the low stone wall, dizzy from the sudden warping. My confusion didn't last long, however, as someone yanked me up by the front of my tunic, spouting gibberish and shaking me. Midna's voice, somewhere above me, explaining.

She did _not_ just sever the connection between Hyrule and the Twilight Realm. She did _not_ just strand me here and Link and Zelda on the other side. Was I just an excuse for escape? Did she use me to lie to Link? My head spiralled out of control, but not from the after-effects of Ganondorf's attack. No, this was something much worse. Struggling to see straight, I pushed away at whoever held me and confronted Midna.

"So that was a ruse, huh?" I shouted at her. "Using me to lie to Link, to make him- Look what you've done! Now I'm trapped _here_-"

Midna shoved me. "This isn't about us, Link!" she shrieked. "It's much bigger than that. My hands were tied – and I swear to you, if there is a way to get back, I will be the first to find it and use it, because I- I know better than anyone else what I've just done, and the consequences of my-"

"Oh, yeah, I can see that." I gestured to the rest of the buildings and the palace, each of them sporting a tiny crowd of curious onlookers, and some overjoyed supporters calling to one another about Princess Midna's return. "Yeah. What reconstruction? Did you lie about that too?" My hand went to my sword. "I won't play your games anymore. I want to go back. Maybe I'm not even dying, and that was just a big prank too, on all of us."

"Link, why are you being difficult?" she demanded. "You can't honestly believe I'd do something like that just to hurt him. It hurt me too, and you couldn't stay there anyway. I didn't lie about your injuries. You have to recuperate here, the same way I had to take on Zelda's essence to survive in Hyrule. It works the same way, no trickery. You simply couldn't survive there."

I covered my ears. Terrible thoughts kept running through my head, because I wasn't strictly Twili. I wasn't strictly Hylian either, and I knew I couldn't help that. But this… I hadn't been expecting it. Sure, I might have suspected foul play on more than a few counts, mostly due to Link's observations. But- "NO!" My sword echoed in the shocked silence, and the original Twili who'd grabbed me took a threatening step forward. Midna's hand jabbed into the air.

"We are not fighting over this! Not now!" Tears poured down her cheeks. "Not after- not after that!"

I struggled fiercely in her grip, almost managing to break it, but the strength left me and I slumped to the ground, utterly defeated. Would this suffering for the greater good never end? Fat lot of good it did them last time, when they shipped the biggest threat of the century off to Lala Land. He just broke free and terrorised a new place before returning to Hyrule. Maybe it would fail again this time. Maybe we'd have to fight this all over again because shattering a mirror wasn't enough. And as awful as it sounded – and even knowing what it would mean for something like that to happen – I wanted it. Hell, we would all want it, because it gave us the one purpose in life that we could realistically and successfully pursue. It defined us. I hadn't even been part of the original team, and yet, I'd found a solid ambition in our adventuring that I couldn't hope to find here.

Angry and broken, I let Midna guide me inside the palace to a small room and a waiting Twili. I let them talk over me and at me. What else could I do? I could make a new life here, if I tried hard enough; instead, that nagging request I'd made to Link kept ringing in my ears. He'd also promised to take me fishing. It sounded stupid, but I really wanted to go fishing with him in Zora's Domain, and not get attacked by Zoras. I wanted to do stuff, after losing so much time to running around and fighting monsters and bad guys; I wanted to do stuff, but not in the Twilight Realm with complete strangers. I wanted to have that goddesses-damned party Midna'd promised me.

"Fine," I muttered. "Fine." They were leading me upstairs now, near the open balcony with the twilit waterfall, and with every step I took, the sicker I felt and the heavier my limbs became. Blindly I followed Midna and deafly I listened to whatever she jabbered on about. I knew what would happen now. I'd get well, end up finding ways to make mischief and be happy here, and try and forget about the problem. I wouldn't be able to forget. Maybe Link was thinking the same thing, wherever he was, and working on a way to keep everyone safe and still visit the Twilight Realm. But if it was the last thing I did, regardless of whatever world I happened to be in, I'd find a way back. I had to; it was my new-

"LINK!"

x

"Where are you going? Link?" He ignored her, mounting Arden and gripping the reins tightly enough for his gauntlets to squeak. Zelda's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "They are gone," she murmured quietly, almost fearfully. "The Mirror shattered- Link. Link, listen to me-"

"No." Eyes flashing dangerously, his stare alone forced her back several steps, her hand clutched to her chest. "Th-this isn't over-ver." And without another word, he dug in his heels and rocketed down the trail, away from a village drowning in confusion, and a princess seemingly returned from the dead.

Zelda collapsed to her knees in his absence; her dress stained easily in the thick mud. No one stood by to see her falter, aside from a small boy hiding in the bushes of a treehouse, with his small bright gaze fixed on the struggling woman.

"Are you okay?" he asked timidly. Startled, she swept regally to her feet and shifted a hand to the tiny dagger tied to her sash, the one that Dark Link had given to her during their long ride to the desert. But the boy continued to watch her, unperturbed. A crudely carved wooden sword dangled at his thin waist, and a scrap piece of metal had been tied to his back as a makeshift shield. "Can I help?"

Her expression softened and Zelda beckoned the boy closer with an open palm. "Yes," came the sad reply. "Yes, you can. Do you know who I am?"

The boy thought quietly for a minute, then nodded. "You're Princess Zelda. You lied."

The calm expression cinched into one of surprise and hurt, and borderline fury; then it subsided and she smiled openly. "Yes. I did. Do you know the origin of your name?"

"No. But my… my brother calls me Ren."

"Yes, he does," she said simply. "Your brother and I… have been on a grand adventure. Would you like to hear the story?" Nodding again, the boy scrambled up the ladder to Link's treehouse. The Hero and the Princess had arrived just long enough ago for their presence to be noticed now, and when Link had opened the door, he had found an eerily familiar little boy who attempted to knock him from the balcony once again. Now, that same boy stood in the doorway, awaiting his audience with Zelda. She sighed heavily and gathered her ruined skirts, carefully mounting the wooden slats.

_Wherever you are, Link,_ she thought gravely. _May no trouble befall you. Yet._

* * *

Well, we've reached the end of the line... and what a crazy ride it's been to get here. I agree with some of you, that seeing this end is sad, but at the same time, I see it as kind of bittersweet. After all, there's still another adventure left to go for these guys, involving a certain mirror... But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I want to thank you, all of you - readers and reviewers - who contributed to this. Your support has been amazing and a real motivator :) I'd especially like to thank those who've stuck around since the early chapters; a few names stood out both in my mind and on the review collection page: retsof, marium, chindu, shay, nira, morna, aaron, spiritual stone, wolfen dreams, crimson, niry, and legend. (If I forgot your name in my quick glance of the pages, I'd be more than happy to add it.) All the same, you're fantastic.

Thank you :) And now, good night, and good luck. PS:

_"He's trapped somewhere. It's a long story, and I'm not telling you anything else." She looked about ready to tear my throat out, so I added, "I'll tell you in the morning," before moving to stamp out the ashes of the fire. I certainly didn't feel like eating, but if she wanted to sit in the dark and munch on her goddesses-damned tuber, I wasn't going to stop her. Things were about to get a whole lot more dramatic anyway, as she'd sarcastically hinted just minutes ago. She wouldn't take no for an answer, and I certainly couldn't take her with me, so I would just have to resort to dangerous, desperate measures, like shooting what I thought to be a very discrete shower of sparkles just inside the main gate, while Malon had her head turned the other way._

_This was probably a really very stupid idea – not that that would stop me…. At least, until I realised just how stupid the idea was, when an arrow came zooming out of nowhere, burying itself into Malon's unprotected hand. She screeched, something hollered in response, and I dove at her, screaming for her to mount the damn horse and to giddy-up already. She had a freaking arrow stuck through her hand now. So much for your speech back there, moron. Shaking my head roughly, I hovered behind her, shield raised, as she swung into the saddle and began galloping hard for the middle of the Field._

_She turned slightly, terrified and pallid, and opened her mouth to ask, "What are we going to do?"_


End file.
